


SULK

by NoShitSherlock



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Harry, Actor Louis, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Louis, Crying, Death, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Famous Harry, Famous Louis, Harry likes to call Louis princess, Jealous Harry, Lack of condoms, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Louis likes to hit harry when he pisses him off, M/M, Mean Harry, Mpreg, Parties, Pregnancy, Pregnant Louis, Sick Louis, Somewhat Abuse, Spanking, Swearing, Top Harry, fake relationships, hate/love, lying, they are both actors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:58:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 88,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoShitSherlock/pseuds/NoShitSherlock
Summary: “And… action!”“Cut!”“Harry! What the fuck?!”“Do I have to kiss this son of a-”“Styles, don’t you fucking-”“That’s it! Take five!”Harry and Louis are actors. They hate each other. Everyone knows it.They also hate the fact they’re having a baby together.





	1. Princesses and Frogs

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooo, this is an mpreg :) There is a lot of swearing and hating and loving but hey, it's all good. 
> 
> I quite like this story idea, I hope you do too. 
> 
> Alllllll the loveeee .x
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS JUST IN CASE THERE'S ONE OR SOME YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH.
> 
> Warnings: VeRy deTaiLEd sEX.

Harry and Louis are the epitome of hate. Harry hates Louis, Louis hates Harry. It’s common on the news, and waking up to today’s headline of them puts a grin on Louis’ face.

The grin is quickly replaced with fear when he looks at his clock through hazy eyes and sees that it’s well past seven in the morning. He is meant to be on set for seven sharp. There are numerous messages on his phone, three which are from Harry.

**Shitbag: Oi, you better not fuck up today. ******

******Shitbag: Where the fuck are you? They’ve added a new scene. ******** **

**********Shitbag: You better fucking have a great reason as to why you’re not here yet other than you are too lazy to get up off your fat ass. ******** ** ** **

Louis rolls his eyes. It’s far too typical to receive hate messages from him first thing in the morning. Usually his spam of hate is Louis’ alarm, he prefers to hear it over the boring alarm tones he has on his phone. However, he’s left his phone on silent.

Shoving the covers off himself, Louis swings his legs over the side of his bed, rubs his eyes and proceeds to stumble over to his bathroom where he washes his face, brushes his teeth and has a quick shower. He picks out a pair of black skinny jeans ripped at the knees, a pair of black vans and a cosy black jumper, then he finally replies to Harry.

**Dicklinson: I’m not worried about fucking up I’m worried about the camera lens breaking, again, because it saw your ugly face.**

With that, he grabs his backpack shoving his keys, his phone, his wallet and a granola bar from his kitchen into it and leaving his apartment.

He arrives on set nearly two hours and a half late and still is not prepared for the yelling he receives from their director, Christopher, whom - despite the yelling - he dearly loves. He isn’t lectured or criticized, only sworn at and then told to go straight to makeup and hair.

When he enters the room, he hangs his backpack on the corner of one of the chairs and takes a seat in front of the lit up mirror. He’s greeted with a script being shoved in his face by Harry who’s beside him and has been talking to their hairstylist, Louise who now falls quiet, throughout Louis’ entrance.

“Hi to you too, cunt.”

The blue eyed boy stares at Harry through their mirror and only receives a threatening glare.

“Alright, keep your mouth closed then. That way, dicks are not accidentally falling into it.”

Louis flips through the pages of the script, trying to find the new added scene that he failed to be told about through someone other than Harry because he failed to wake up on time.

“Act four, scene five.” Harry finally responds to Louis, watching him fiddle with the paper through the mirror. “And dicks don’t ‘fall’ into mouths.”

Louis scoffs at the green eyed man’s awfully bitter mood, looking at him with an amused face. “What’s got your balls in a twist?”

“Act four.” Harry responds looking depressingly pissed off. “Scene fucking five. Stop staring at my lips and read it, fuckface.”

Moments pass as Louis scans the scene, and his smirk gradually falls into a straight line as he finally understands what’s got his co-star so moody.

“I am not fucking kissing you.”

“Technically it’s me who has to kiss you.” Harry states, his hair being combed back into a sleek finish.

“Who the fuck had this absurd idea?!”

Louise pipes in at this point, giving finishing touches to Harry’s hair. “That would be Lottie.”

“What the actual fuck?!” The cerulean eyed boy slams the script down on the dressing table. “Fuck no. I don’t want your frog lips anywhere near my lips. I don’t even want to touch you.”

Harry breaks out in a chuckle for the first time since Louis got here. “Likewise, princess.”

“You fucking call me that again and you’ll have a fist to your frog face.”

“Oi, cut it out.” Louise interrupts the two. Given the places their bickering has led to, it’s a good thing. It’s far too early for sprained wrists. “Harry, get out. You’re done.”

Harry takes a look in the mirror at his final look and stands as he smiles. “Thanks Lou! See you cuntface!”

“You too, dickhead.” Louis gives an awfully fake smile to the man leaving the room and then finally relaxes into a calm conversation with Louise as he gets his hair and makeup done.

It’s forty five minutes before the two have to see each other again. Neither aren’t too happy about it and Louis has a bone to pick with his sister Lottie whom works in costume and design offset. However, he’s shoved onset without a chance to pick an argument.

“Alright, rehearse your new lines and positions! Louis, I want your right side, Harry your left. Stand near the arch. You have twenty minutes! We’re off schedule already because of a certain someone.”

Twenty minutes was all it took to learn a handful of lines and start an argument.

“You even attempt laying a hand on me in this scene and I will file a lawsuit against you, dickward.” Louis rages, script on the floor and hands on his hips.

“What makes you think I want to touch you? You’ve probably got HIV or aids, asshole.” Harry responds, equally raged and staring intensely at Louis.

“Darling, that’s not how it’s passed on, and I’d be more concerned about the HIV or aids you have given the large amount of people you go around fucking like the manwhore you are.”

“Slow down, sweetheart. How do you know the number of people I fuck is large? Are you stalking me now?”

“What? No. Never. Ew. Didn’t your mother ever tell you to-”

“You say a word further Styles or Tomlinson and I swear your contracts will be cancelled and I’ll replace you with a pair that doesn’t bicker like immature children!” Everyone on set hears the same old threat every day. It has pretty much lost its meaning. They would never replace the duo, they brought in more money and recognition than anyone else in the cast. Perhaps it was their unusual relationship where they purely hated each other but went so well with each other.

“Now let’s shoot this scene. You two are kissing, got it?”

They didn’t get it. Not with what happened next.

“And… action!”

“Cut!”

All eyes in the room fall on Harry who has stopped the scene before it has even started. Louis folds his arms and puts out a foot, tapping it impatiently with an annoyed look on his face. He wants to get this over and done with and go and disinfect his lips.

“Harry! What the fuck?!”

The curly headed lad tilts his head innocently. “Do I have to kiss this son of a-”

“Styles, don’t you fucking-” Louis begins before he is cut off.

“That’s it! Take five!”

They’re about to get in massive trouble for a fact, as seen with the incredulous look on Christopher’s face as he storms towards them.

“What are your actual problems?! I’m asking you to get through one scene. One scene! And you can’t even do that! Why the hell do you two hate each other so much, seriously?!”

“Well, personally I think Louis is too pretty for his personality. I don’t like it, therefore I hate him.”

Louis stands utterly flattered whilst Christopher grits his teeth and does the best thing and walks off in response. Today was going just dandy.

Usually, their days were filled with bicker but it never prevented them from acting a scene. It was just this scene that had both of their characters _fucking kissing_ which is the last thing the pair of them wanted.

“You think I’m pretty?” Louis questions sarcastically, placing a hand on his heart as if he is touched. He isn’t.

“I think you are very ugly for sure.”

Harry receives a solid whack on his arm, quick and snappy but with enough force to leave a striking pain in his bicep.

“Do you fucking mind, Dicklinson? Weren’t you just cussing about how you don’t want to even touch me?”

“Yep!”

“Can we practice this scene in a separate room so we can shoot this shit and get it over and done with?” Harry questions, rubbing his sore arm.

“Why fucking not?”

They both made it to one of the empty dressing rooms, taking their positions and running their lines, but it’s the kiss – this fucking kiss – that they were both dreading.

“I have to lean in now.”

Louis scowls almost whacking the man in his head. “Don’t say it fucktard, act it.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dicklinson. I was only warning you.” Harry states rather offended. So much for being nice…

“I’m well prepared, thank you very much. I have the ambulance on speed dial.”

“Ha ha.” The laugh is just as fake as Harry’s willingness to be kind to the shorter lad. “For fuck’s sake, just say your last line.”

Louis sighs, taking his position.

_“Is that how you feel about me?”_

_“No, but this is how I feel about you.”_

Louis doesn’t know how he has swallowed down his vomit watching the tall man acting insanely well lean in ever so slowly. There are centimetres between them and Louis can feel the warm air Harry is emitting hitting him in the face, a minty scent.

The cerulean eyed lad gulps. He is not ready to die.

“Ew. I can’t do this.”

Louis gets string of curses from Harry as a response as he backs away and goes to leave the room, but there’s a large hand gripping his wrist and pulling him back.

“You can fucking do this, asshole. Stop being a cunt, it’s one kiss.”

“One kiss I’d rather avoid Styleswhore, so I can’t do this.” Louis rolls his eyes, turning around and attempting to leave the room once again.

Harry isn’t having it as he pulls the smaller lad back again. “Bloody hell, you’re getting paid to do this so do it.”

“Styles, I really don’t want to get poisoned today, not with my entire life ahead of me and-”

To be truthful, Louis doesn’t at all expect it, his face getting grabbed and the pair of lips soft like cotton parting his own. It’s a weird feeling, but it’s eerily good. It lasts far too short, because Harry’s pulling back slowly, hands on the smaller boy’s cheeks and staring him in the eyes.

“It’s just acting, Dicklinson.” The curly haired lad smirks, tapping Louis on the cheek and laughing. He removes his hand.

Louis doesn’t have a comeback this time. For the first time in a seriously long time he doesn’t have a comeback towards Harry Styles, the man who he hates for reasons unrevealed. Moments of Louis staring at the taller man with a look he cannot pinpoint what of pass and then the smirk on Harry’s face is gradually disappearing. He takes a small step closer to Louis.

“What is it?”

He half expects Louis to take a small step towards him and half expects him to remain still and staring, however Louis lunges himself at Harry in a kiss that neither of them back down from. Louis’ arms are wrapped tightly around the emerald eyed man’s neck and he is on the tips of his toes. Harry places his hands on the smaller boy’s waist, pulling him in closely so that their entire fronts are touching.

Louis’ mumbling into the kiss something along the lines of, “why does this feel okay?” It is ignored by Harry who grabs Louis from underneath his thighs, hauling him up and wrapping his legs around his back. Louis complies, his mind racing and ignoring the little voice in his head saying, “what the fuck? You hate him.”  
“Fuck, Styles, tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going.”

He is ignored once again as Harry proceeds to place kisses from the corner of his mouth, to his jaw and then to his neck, Louis letting out little airy moans. Harry stumbles over to the couch in the middle of the room besides a coffee table. He tosses Louis who bounces a little, falling on his back.

They should stop, really, but they don’t.

The green eyed man unbuttons his white shirt, discarding it somewhere on the floor behind the couch. From where he’s stood at the end of the couch, he grabs the smaller boy by the ankles and pulls him closer. They share a quick look that gives permission for Harry to undress Louis, and that’s exactly what he does. He removes his shoes and unzips the blue eyed boy’s jeans, tugging them down his curvy thighs along with his underwear, past his feet and throwing them behind him.

His cosy jumper follows, and so does Harry’s own shoes, jeans and underwear and finally, they’re completely naked under a bright light and they should feel uncomfortable but they feel anything but.

“Harry-”

“Turn around for me.” Harry demands, licking his lips. “I don’t want to see your face.”

Louis rolls his eyes in response, turning around and resting on his elbows and knees.

Harry is faced with Louis’ ass, and he swallows. “How could I ever hate that?” Harry mumbles to himself, placing a hand on each cheek and kneading the boy’s ass.

“Mm, I can’t tell you how good it feels to have the person I hate grab me like that.” Harry can’t relate, but he can definitely relate to how good it feels having the person he hates in this very compromising position.

“Shut up, cunt. I don’t want you talking.” He pulls the smaller boy further back so that he’s snug against Harry’s hard on.

“You shut the fuck up, asswipe. Hurry up and-”

A hand is placed over his mouth without warning, so it’s only natural for Louis to bite back with full force, getting his spit all over the green eyed man’s hand.

“Fuck! Did you just fucking bite me?!”

“Yes, don’t fucking do that again or-”

The taller man lifts his hand and whacks his ass because if there’s one thing Harry hates more than getting bitten by the person he hates it’s the voice of the person he hates.

“I said shut. The fuck. Up.”

The blue eyed boy freezes in his place, thoughts racing through his mind. He doesn’t listen to Harry, no, that’s against his nature. What he says next shouldn’t come out, but it does.

“Do that again.”

“What? Cover your mouth? No, thanks, I don’t want to get bitten again and risk getting rabies.”

At this point, Louis is in no mood to joke with the man stood behind him. He only turns his neck and lifts a hand to grab Harry by the wrist and place his hand where he just hit him.

“Hit me.”

Moments of silence pass that should be awkward but isn’t. The gears in Harry’s head are turning before they finally click into place.

“You desperate fucker.” He back hands the same spot and the reaction from Louis that is given is expected. A moan, a laced with lust moan from the back of his throat that escapes past his parted lips. “Look at you, all pathetic and needy.”

Louis’ eyelids close, his head lolling back as Harry lands another slap to his ass on his other cheek. “You look just as pathetic standing there with your dick hanging rather than prepping me to shove it up my ass.”

“Not as pathetic as you’re going to look when I make you beg me to fuck you.” He whacks his ass again, using both hands to knead the meaty flesh and then backhand him.

“I don’t beg, ass-”

Two fingers are shoved into his mouth before he can finish his sentence. This time he doesn’t bite down, he only swirls his tongue and lathers up the two fingers with his saliva. Harry leans down to whisper in his ear, watching the boy’s pink lips encase around his fingers perfectly.

“I hate to compliment you, but you look very pretty when you’re desperate.”

Louis in response chokes on the two fingers in his mouth that get pulled out straight after. He pants, a glare on his face. “Don’t fucking compliment me you fucking frog.”

Harry chuckles, placing a finger at the boy’s hole and nudging the ring of muscle. “Well, if I’m a frog, you must be the princess and princesses are pretty.”

Louis groans in frustration. “Can you not? I like it better when you’re cussing me down and calling me- JESUS!”

The smirk on the green eyed man’s face highlights how riveting the sight of his index finger being engulfed and Louis’ back arching is. He uses his free hand to land another slap to the boy’s ass as he shoves his finger in deep, then he tangles his fingers in the blue eyed boy’s hair and pulls him backwards, his neck stretching and his back arching even further.

“I don’t recall ever calling you Jesus.”

Louis goes to reply but is cut off with a loud moan as Harry slips his second and final finger in, stretching him further open and swirling his fingers around inside.

“Fuck! Styles you make me want to- oh, God, mm!”

Harry is nudging at his prostate, brushing the nub and massaging it, and he feels the boy tense up beneath him signifying that if he doesn’t stop, he will come soon. With that, he pulls his two fingers out, wiping them on Louis’ lower back and then grabs him by the waist.

“Spit in my hand.”

Louis doesn’t have to be told twice – which is very unusual – as he spits into Harry’s hand, the curly haired lad using it to lube up his dick.

“Good, now bend all the way down for me, asshole. All I want to see is my cock ripping you open.”

“You fucking need to stop telling me what to fucking do before I-”

Louis’ head is shoved into the couch by Harry’s hand on the back of his head, his cheek being pressed up against it. His arms are then grabbed and pulled behind his back by the same hand which encases around both his small wrists and locks them in place in the middle of his back.

He can feel the head of Harry’s member nudging at his hole, and once it slips in, he can barely contain the loud moan that rips out of him. The moan only grows louder as Harry slips in all the way, balls deep, his large manhood ever so near his prostate and snug whilst stretching his hole to the max.

“God, you’re so fucking big.”

Harry chuckles, licking his lips. “Yet I fit perfectly inside you.”

“I feel like I’m being ripped apart.”

“That was my intention, no?” He laughs, using his free hand to grab one of Louis’ ass cheeks and spreading it apart so he can clearly see himself being engulfed.  
“Wow, you look so disgustingly pretty wrapped around my cock.”

“Enjoy it because this will never happen again, dickhead.”

“Beg me to fuck you.”

Louis has a look of disgust on his face. “I am not begging you.”

Harry sneers. “I guess I won’t fuck you then-”

“No! I mean…please fuck me…please?”

And so Harry does, smirking, as he pulls out, stalling for a second before slamming into the boy and making him rock forward. He develops a pattern, drilling into him at a fast but steady pace. Louis is a humiliating mess of moans and whimpers, mewls and cusses and his eyes stay shut in complete and utter bliss.

Harry alters his position at one point, shifting the position of his hips and by the disturbingly loud wail Louis makes, he knows he has hit his prostate perfectly. He grips tightly onto the boy’s waist with one hand and holds Louis’ two wrists down firmly behind his back with his other as he penetrates him.

For Louis, he is completely incoherent in his state, strings of words and cusses spewing out of his mouth in nonchronological order. There is a heat in his lower stomach that pools, and he can feel his body falling limp as he nears his peak.

The sound of skin slapping on skin is enough to push him over the edge, Louis drooling out Harry’s name and a handful of profanities. The taller lad doesn’t stop as Louis spurts out ribbons all over the couch beneath him, he only thrusts into Louis with desire and a need to release himself.

It takes four last deep, ripping poundings into his ass before Harry is also coming, filling Louis’ ass with his hot seed and then pulling out only to see droplets of his liquid already seeping out and the boy’s hole gaping.

“Fuck, Styles, you gotta do me like that more often.” Louis is a panting mess, and his common sense still hasn’t returned. He may just regret saying that.

Harry sniggers, “didn’t you just tell me this will-”

“Shut up. I know what I said, shitbag.”

He receives two pats on his ass from Harry who’s already picking up his jeans and pulling them on.

“But you got an amazing dick. I haven’t been fucked like that in ages.”

“Ah ah, no compliments. You hate me, I hate you.” Harry responds, a smirk on his face as he zips up his jeans and watches the limp boy unable to move from his position pressed up against the couch. “You may want to clean that mess you made there. Oh, and visit Louise again. You look like shit.”

Louis screws up his face in distaste, his eyes glaring behind his eyelids. “You are shit.”

Harry only buttons up his shirt and slips on his shoes, grinning like the asshole he is.

“Thanks for that fuck, Dicklinson.”

Louis doesn’t respond but Harry is fine with that. The smaller boy is too busy shaking on the couch from his intense orgasm.

“And hurry up, will you? We have a kissing scene to shoot.”


	2. Little Less Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey babes! I'm bang smack in the middle of my exams but I've seemed to be able to write up this chapter. 
> 
> I'm so amazed that you lot are enjoying this judging by the kudos and hits. Thank you ever so much for the comments too! .x
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Bare in mind that this is the build up to the story because this story is going be intense xD 
> 
> Hang in there. Loads of love .xx

When Louis visits Louise again and is faced with a look of pure irritation, he doesn’t have to think twice to know that he’s pissed her off. She scowls asking for no explanation as she restyles his hair. He knows that she still loves him dearly, but lets her pretend she doesn’t as a way of getting her frustration out that her _fucking time consuming work_ had been undone.

It’s rather funny to watch her seething and professionally trying not to swear. It’s not so funny when he’s getting whacked on the arm for laughing. He leaves the hair and makeup room with the feeling of a nasty bruise forming on his upper arm.

He makes his way on set clutching his arm and with a nagging sharp pain in his ass and rolls his eyes as he sees Harry immediately smirking like he knows all of Louis’ secrets. He doesn’t. He only knows that Louis gets desperate quickly around the male genitalia, but if that isn’t a horrifyingly humiliating thing to know then Louis doesn’t know what is.

“Where have you been? Trying to remove your head from being stuck up your ass?”

Louis is quick to flip his middle finger up, shoving it in his face as he walks past to get his script which is still on the ground from his argument with Harry.

“Oh, is that the finger you’ve been using in attempt to remove your head from your ass?” Harry chuckles, weight on one foot as he watches the smaller boy bend down near him.“I see you’ve taken the ‘fuck yourselfs’ literally. And dumbshit, you need two hands to remove your head. It’s really, really stuck.”

Picking his script up is rather a waste of his time as he dashes it to the ground again to place both his hands on his hips. The look on his face is anything but pleasant.

“You are walking on thin ice, Styles.”

“No, I’m treading, all over your dignity and pride.”

“That’s it!” He goes to lunge at the man but there are hands holding him back and he’s pretty darn grateful or his little self would have pounded the shit out of this ogre and it would not have looked pretty on screen.

“Louis, what did your mother say about old toys? Give them to the less fortunate. Someone else can beat Harry to a piece of shit pulp for the fun of it, not you.”

Louis is half grateful for the presence of Liam, his good friend and one of the writers of their series. His face unwinds into a lopsided smirk because _thank you Liam for insulting Harry._

“Hey! That’s not at all funny.” Harry pouts. It’s a cute pout, in Liam’s opinion. In Louis’, he thinks he only looks more like a frog.

“Yeah, what’s not funny is you questioning where the fuck I’ve been.” _Like he doesn’t know_.

Harry’s got that legendary smirk on his face again, but doesn’t get a chance to say anything as Christopher is approaching the three of them.

“Guys, change of location. We’re shooting this scene outside a dainty little coffee shop that you two will be just leaving given your cue.”

“Great!” Louis replies sarcastically. “I need some fresh air.”

“Don’t open your mouth too much when breathing. A dick may accidentally fall in.”

“Harold, shut the actual fuck up. That’s my insult. And dicks don’t ‘fall’ into mouths.”

It takes nearly an hour to store the cameras and other filming equipment in a truck and then arrive at the location. Louis questions why Christopher was stingy about Louis showing up on set late when he’s here wasting an hour on a change of location for some stupid ass kissing scene with some stupid ass kiss. At the same time, he doesn’t point that out to him because Christopher knows what he is doing.

Harry, on the other hand, doesn’t know what he’s doing when it comes to detangling a few cable cords. He’s only trying to help, but he’s really not that much of a help. He gets told to _get his ass in position before it gets deflated even more_ and not by Louis, by Zayn, the mastermind behind the perfect sceneries they shoot at.

He likes Zayn, a lot. They’re best friends, so he lets it slide. Once again, he finds himself in the all too common position of facing Louis, who looks rather stingy and moody for someone who’s just gotten fucked well.

“Alright. I trust that you’ve rehearsed this and have sorted out your shitty unprofessional issues, yes?”

Harry, who’s scenic green eyes match the dark green of the cute little café, has a brisk smile on his face. “We’ve more than rehearsed this, Chris. This scene will be perfect, don’t worry.”

Louis stays silent evidently pissed that Harry low key keeps hinting everything that happened less than two hours ago that has a sharp pain in his ass and his pride lost. The only good outcome is that Louis isn’t so opposed to the idea of kissing Harry, but he’s unsure if that’s a good outcome or not given he _absolutely fucking loathes_ the curly headed man.

“Alright, in three, two, one. And…action!“

“Cut!”

It’s not the voice of the curly headed man who only a couple of hours ago said the exact same thing. This time it’s Louis, in all his glory, about to avoid kissing harry despite not being so opposed to it.

“Oh, for fucks sake. What now?!”

Louis grins sheepishly at their director. He’s not going to say he doesn’t want to kiss harry (majorly juxtaposing his actions of launching onto the man earlier). Instead he’s going to lie and say that his hay fever allergies are acting up and he needs to take his medication, just to postpone this a little longer.

Well, he’s _about_ to lie, but he doesn’t get a word out before Harry’s answering for him. “I think Louis needs to go to the toilet quickly.” He turns to face Louis. “Right?”

There’s a gleam in the taller man’s eyes, one that irks Louis but also leaves him feeling a little sensitive in the chest.

“Jesus fucking Christ, no! Get through this fucking five minute scene and then you can fucking piss. This is so unprofessional!” Christopher has every right to be swearing, and the rest of the crew behind the cameras either laugh at it or sigh. Honestly, the reality of Harry and Louis and life on set could have more views than their series itself.

Louis furrows his eyebrows and goes to state that he doesn’t in fact need to pee, but Christopher’s giving the second round of countdowns and really, he just wants to get this over and done with.

He pulls on his best acting face because he’s _Louis Fucking Tomlinson_ as Harry takes his place at the coffee shop door, holding it open for Louis.

“Action!”

_“It’s good to see you again.”_

Louis smiles innocently in response, walking out of the café, Harry following suit.

_“It’s good to see you too.”_

Harry smiles, one full of love and admiration. He grabs Louis by the hands, thumbs stroking his skin.

_“I missed you, you know? It’s not okay to just disappear into the blue and leave your best friend hanging.”_

_“Yeah,”_ Louis jokes, _“I think it is.”_

Harry lets go of Louis’ hands and rests one on the smaller boy’s waist.

_“Ever since you’ve been gone, I’ve been thinking...”_

_“About what?”_

_“The way I feel about you.”_

Louis masters a look of confusion, placing his hand on top of Harry’s on his waist and gently removing it.

_“What do you mean? I know how you feel about me… You’re my best friend, I always have.”_ He laughs. _“You love me dearly but ever so hate it when I eat all your food. I know. You’ve told me.”_

_“It’s not like that anymore, things have changed. I mean…of course I still hate it when you steal all my food, but-”_

_“Oh, wait. Is it that I went straight back to Jai and it was a stupid thing to do? Trust me, I know. Do you hate me for it? Is that how you feel about me?”_

Harry sighs, his acting skills perfect as he masks how he feels right now, which is rather hot in the strong sun.

_“No, but this is how I feel about you.”_

He cups Louis’ face, and reacts their kiss from before. His lips glide smoothly with Louis’ and in the back of his mind, as Louis responds just as enthusiastically, he believes this kiss is just as real as it is fake.

Except, that’s a completely horrendous thought to be thinking so he’s damn grateful when Christopher’s yelling, “cut!”

“Thank fuck,” is their director’s only response before the surrounding crowd of crew claps in happiness and the two are dismissed with a relieved wave of hand.

Louis glares at the green eyed man. “I didn’t and still don’t fucking need to use the toilet.”

Harry turns to face Louis. “Sorry, Tomlinhoe, just needed a reason for you to disappear whilst they pack up the cameras and equipment.”

“Um, the fuck?”

He doesn’t get a worded response as the curly headed lad grabs him by the wrist, hauling him back into the café and into the male’s restroom, straight past the extras who watch the two stars as they pass. He’s shoved carelessly against the wall, Harry’s hands pinning him against it by his shoulders.

Louis, commonly for him, rolls his eyes for umpteenth time that day.

“Get your fucking hands off me. What the fuck do you want, fuckface?” He doesn’t even try to resist the force holding him down. He just stares, face filled with boredom, at his co-star before him.

“Exactly that.” The look in Harry’s emerald eyes is intense, akin to the look from _merely fucking hours ago_. “To fuck your face.”

Louis immediately breaks out in laughter. “Who’s the desperate one now?”

He’s about to slip out from under Harry’s hold and resume his day when he’s pressed tight against the taller man’s front. He feels the nudging of his bulging member and as much as Louis wants to deny it, the entire feeling sparks a heat in his stomach and he’s just about getting turned on.

_For fuck’s sake._

“I’m not desperate,” Harry scowls. “I just really fucking can’t stop thinking about earlier on and it’s got my dick desperate. Not me, _my dick._ ”

“Same thing, dickhead, ‘cause you are a dick.” Louis gives him a dirty look. It’s not his best dirty look, because he’s too busy focusing on trying not to get anymore harder than he’s gotten just from being snug against the taller man and slotted like a puzzle piece.

Harry, hands still on Louis’ shoulders, pushes him down onto his knees. “May I fuck your face?”

“Yes.” _Um, excuse you, what the fuck?_

The look on Harry’s face is one as if he’s just won the lottery. He’s quick to undo his belt and jeans, but Louis is already doing it himself. The brunette on his knees eyes him with bright sea-blue eyes. Usually he’s opposed to wasting his sight on the man whom he still fucking hates, but watching Harry watch him makes him feel somewhat special to the point where more blood is rushing to his manhood. He can’t stop it, so he doesn’t try.

Harry’s member springs out, accidentally hitting him on his chin. Harry only cackles, thumbing at the spot. “Alright there, princess?”

“I told you to not fucking call me that,” he seethes, stopping all movement to glare at the man.

“But look at you.” Harry grabs his chin, bending down so that his face is inches away from Louis’. “On your knees and all pretty…like a princess.”

Louis whacks Harry’s hand away from his face. “I also fucking said to stick to fucking insulting me. I like it better that way.”

Harry laughs at the boy’s frustration, proceeding to tangle his fingers in Louis’ hair for the second time that day. “And I also like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

He brings Louis’ head forward, the blue eyed boy’s lips parting. “Looks like you’re getting your wish.” He latches onto Harry’s member, lips encased around the tip which stretches him wide.

Harry erupts in a moan, head lolling back and eyes clenching shut, but he looks down almost immediately after at Louis. The sight is almost too perfect to not watch.

Harry’s so wrapped up in the glory of the feeling of Louis around him and Louis is too wrapped up in _being around him_ that neither hear the voice through the door. It’s too late when the person is stepping in and the two are ripping apart from each other, Harry’s back to their audience as he tucks himself in and fixes his zip and belt.

“Guys, what the fuck?”

Louis’ face is consumed with shock and embarrassment as he faces the person. Harry is blushing a crimson red as he finally turns around to face the person too.

“Niall, what the fuck?” Harry questions back.

Niall, who looks like he’s either going to laugh hysterically or cry in embarrassment, takes a step back through the door. “I’m just gonna…go- yeah, just gonna go now.”

The blonde is out before either of the two lads can say a word. Louis groans. “Look what you did, son of a bitch!”

“Excuse fucking me?!” Harry replies, equally frustrated. “You were pretty in on it too!”

Louis lets out a long, sarcastic sigh. He gets up, faces the taller man, and lands a swift slap to his cheek. “That’s what you get for getting me in such a compromising position…again. Fuck you, Styles.”

Harry doesn’t get a word out before Louis is leaving the restroom, a handprint already forming on his skin.

_So much for a blowjob._

It’s safe to say the two lads go about the rest of their day with blue balls. Harry more so than Louis.

The next day comes around with the same schedule. Except, for the first time since forever, there isn’t any bickering on set or arguments. Harry and Louis don’t even cross paths. It’s very obvious Louis is avoiding him, which is only possible because they don’t have any one on one scenes to shoot for a good week now.

Harry isn’t too bothered about it. He couldn’t really care. In fact, he’s too busy having a laugh with Zayn and another one of his co-stars, Gigi.

He goes to bed that night content with his day.

The next day comes around again with the same schedule, and the same lack of sight of Louis. Harry still isn’t too bothered, but he’s a bit bothered. As much as he’s enjoyed his time not seeing the smaller boy, he misses arguing with his co-star. He’ll never admit that out loud though.

He goes to bed that night feeling a little bit empty at most.

The next two days consist of the same ordeal. Wake up, wonder around, act scenes that don’t include Louis, _not see Louis_ , and then go to sleep feeling a little less okay than the day before.

Four days turn into eight, and their next one on one scene has been completely dismissed because no one can find Louis anywhere. Louis rings in on the eighth day thankfully to say he’s off sick. Christopher is far from happy about it, but would rather let him have a few days off then get anyone else ill.

However, another eight days pass totalling sixteen. It’s been half a month and Harry knows Louis isn’t at all ill, but _something_ is wrong. Something must be incredibly wrong for him to not show up to his _job_. Christopher is throwing a fit, resorting to talking to Lottie who has no idea where her older brother is at this point either.

The seventeenth morning comes around, and Christopher almost has a heart attack and mid-life crisis when Harry doesn’t show up either.

No, Harry’s sat in his car in the middle of LA, dressed in skin tight jeans and a floral shirt, a strawberry lemonade tea from Starbucks in one of his hands as he parks within an expensive apartment complex.

He’s about to drag Louis to work because quite frankly he doesn’t give a fudge cake anymore. Their next scene is _way_ overdue.

He gives a wave at the receptionist, Juliette. He only knows her and where Louis lives from one of the end of season parties they’ve held that was hosted at Louis’.

“Would you know if Louis’ home, love?”

She gives a warming smile. “I haven’t seen him in a while, honestly. I have no clue.”

“Ah…” Harry sighs. “Thanks ever so much though. I’m going to pop up and see if he’s in. Have a lovely day.” He gives her his famous full row of teeth smile. It’s only professional that she acts like she isn’t swooned.

In the elevator, Harry sips on his drink, counting in his head all the floors up until the twentieth. When the doors open and he’s faced with Louis’ apartment door, he prepares himself for a good five minutes of trying to get Louis to open up his door.

So he is pleasantly surprised when he only has to ring the bell once before the blue eyed boy, who looks like death, opens the door up without looking at the taller man and letting him in.

“What do you want?” Usually, this would be barked, but instead Louis’ voice is filled with tiredness and laced with lifelessness.

Harry furrows his eyebrows in a mocking glare. “We haven’t seen each other in half a month and that’s how you greet me?” He walks further into the apartment and sets his car keys, phone and Starbucks drink down on Louis’ coffee table.

“Wow. You’ve been counting? That’s sad.”

Harry rolls his eyes, which is Louis’ usual gesture, except he hasn’t done it once since Harry has stepped foot in his apartment.

“Course I have. Especially eleven days ago on the Thursday we were meant to be shooting one of our scenes.”

“Oh that…yeah.”

Harry looks offended. “Dipshit, you can’t just not come into work! You’re putting the entire show at risk!”

“Sorry, I’ve been too busy throwing up in the toilet.” Louis goes back to stirring his tea which he was in the middle of before Harry interrupted him.

The green eyed man folds his arms, clearly pissed off. “You haven’t been sick. Don’t lie.”

Louis really isn’t in the mood for an interrogation, so he explains exactly, in detail, why he hasn’t been in.

“At first, I was just simply avoiding you. Then I actually had the flu and couldn’t leave my bed. I was sick for a handful of days, never charged my phone so was never able to call in. When I did call in, I actually just had thrown up in the toilet and ever since, I have been. I don’t think it’s the flu anymore. Could you just get your stuff and leave? I don’t need scrutiny.”

Harry’s face softens at this point. If he thought it was never possible to feel sympathetic towards the person he hates, he’s proven wrong now. “Oh…”

Louis takes a sip of his tea, placing the cup down and glancing at the taller man standing aimlessly in his kitchen. “I said get your stuff and-”

Harry doesn’t need to cut him off like usual, as the blue eyed boy is sprinting to his kitchen bin and throwing up, on his knees.

“I think you should go to the doctors…” Harry stands awkwardly, grabbing his drink, taking a long sip and trying to ignore the gagging sounds Louis makes.

“No…no doctors-”

Harry wants to laugh when the boy is throwing up a second time, it’s in his nature to, but he doesn’t find himself doing so.

“Louis, I think you should really go to the-”

Harry finds himself discarding his drink and hurtling towards Louis as he attempts to stand up and only falls limp. He catches him under his arms.

“Louis?” He doesn’t get a response. “Bloody hell.”

Harry picks him up, slinging him over his shoulder. He leaves the apartment, grabbing his car keys and phone and taking the elevator down to the lobby where he receives an alarmed stare from Juliette. He only gives her a reassuring smile.

He feels like a parent when he’s got the passenger car door open and he’s strapping Louis in with haste, who is still very much unconscious. He tries not to worry too much.

His worry is clearly presented in his actions of speeding and impatiently beeping his horn when the light’s still on red. When he arrives at the nearest hospital, he’s very aware that there is a trail of paparazzi that have followed him. He unbuckles the seatbelt strapping Louis down, and swings him over his shoulder again, slamming the car door shut.

He immediately regrets that when there’s the warm feeling of vomit on his back trickling down his shirt. That and the fact there are about a dozen paparazzi cameras capturing that exclusive moment. He’s bombarded as he enters the hospital, stating that Louis is unconscious and he doesn’t know why.

The smaller boy gets handed off to a handful of nurses who wheel him away to a doctor, and from then on, all the talk in the hospital is about how _Harry Freaking Styles is freaking shirtless_ on the second floor in the waiting room.

It’s about half an hour before he’s told Louis is okay – not that he cares because he hates him – and an additional two hours before he’s able to see him.  
Harry doesn’t know why he sticks around. Maybe it’s because he knows Christopher wouldn’t forgive him if he let one of his stars die out.

He walks into the room, an actual sincere little smile on his face.

“Hey, Tomlinwhore.”

Louis looks at him drowsily. “Hey, Styleshit.”

Harry takes a seat beside the hospital bed, fiddling with his phone. “Feeling better?”

Louis sighs. “A bit. Thanks to you…”

Harry looks at him, giving him a plastic angry look. “Don’t be nice.”

The tired boy scrunches his face up in laughter. “I’m not. I was feeling a lot better before your ugly self walked in.”

Harry feigns an offended look, but only ends up looking down at his hands and laughing too. “Do they know what’s wrong yet?”

Louis shakes his head. “They’re still running tests. I don’t know why they’ve gotta run so many though. They only need at least two to tell what motherfucking bug is in me.”

“Probably the one called ‘uptight’, better known as ‘asshole’.”

The smaller boy is about to make a snarky comeback but the doctor – Mr. Mills – is entering the room with a file of what probably is his results.

“Hey, Louis!”

Harry turns to look at the new face in the room. He smiles at the doctor.

“Hey doc! Long time!”

Louis gives a questioning glance at the two but never minds the fact they know each other. _He probably had his finger up Harry’s ass at one point in an appointment and they probably ended up shagging each other._

Harry spots the look on Louis faces and clears his confusion up. “Dipshit, this is my doctor. Best of the best.”

Louis only looks impatiently at his doctor.

“How are you doing, H?”

“I’m doing very well, thank you. And you?”

“Um hello? What about how I’m doing? What the fuck is wrong with me?” Louis cuts their conversation off rudely but with reason.

“Oh…yes.” Doctor Mills looks at Louis, his face suddenly a concoction of astonishment, confusion and disbelief.

“Um. Well, Louis, according to these tests which are a hundred percent accurate in fact, despite the fact it’s a test and not all tests have the ability to-“

“Spit it out, dude.”

_“You’re pregnant.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have a lot more detail and explanations, and also, don't think cause Harry saved Louis' ass he's gonna be nice. Nah, thEy sTiLL HAte eacHoTHer right now :)
> 
> Please leave a kudo or comment and tell me what's up :D


	3. True? Or false?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um, I spent the day writing this instead of studying for my History exam...
> 
> I'm a bad ass bitch rolling in Louis' squad with my fake joint lit, happy days.
> 
> Lmao, enjoy!! 
> 
> And thank you @itxhappensxforxaxreason for the good luck on my exams. It's been well needed :)

There's a laugh being sounded out, a from-the-gut, I-can't-breath kind of laugh from the green eyed actor.

"That's a good one, Doc!"

"Harry get out."

Harry's screwed up face is being sorted into a look of sheer annoyance.

"What did I do?"

Louis, who's fiddling absentmindedly with the bed sheets whilst deadpanning the doctor, doesn't one glance at Harry.

"I said get out."

The curly haired man scoffs, crossing his arms over his bare upper stomach. He's used to being told to get out by Louis by now, but it's still just as rude...not that he cares.

"Excuse me."

"Get the fuck out!" Louis' face snaps towards Harry, who's got one foot out like a pure diva.

That's when Harry realises his co-star is about to cry. It would be too awkward to just stand there and watch the boy wail because Harry doesn't like it when people cry. It's annoying. So he grabs his phone, flips his middle finger at the sick actor and walks out of the room muttering, "good one, doc."

Now it's just Louis, his itching, painful thoughts and the doctor who's void of any expression on his face.

"You know..." Dr. Mills trails off, scanning the papers on the clipboard. "I mean, you know you can conceive...right?"

The brunette chews at his bottom lip, eyes on the blanket covering his legs. His index finger twitches from his anxiety, and he's holding back choked sobs of frustration and rage.

"I had- I have before... I had a miscarriage."

The doctor glances at him sympathetically. "Did they run you through everything? I mean, how and why?"

"Yeah..." Louis gulps, finally bringing his eyes up to look at Dr. Mills. "Please tell me this is some sort of mess up."

Dr. Mills lets out an airy sigh and shakes his head. "Afraid not. Have you passed out before today too?"

The blue eyed boy shakes his head the slightest, so consumed with shock that it's barely even noticeable. The doctor scribbles something on the clipboard, then he faces the actor again.

"It's too early for you be having morning sickness. It's dangerous that you're passing out."

Louis' breaths come out unsteadily at this point. He feels his eyes pooling with saltwater, but he's got too much dignity - well, what dignity is left from what Harry treaded all over - to cry.

"It means I'll probably miscarriage...I know." _That's a good thing._

"We're going to hold you here, under private circumstances, I mean. I doubt you want paparazzi finding out the reason why you're here."

"No..."

"Well I'll leave you-"

The feeling in Louis' stomach is revolting and then he's regurgitating bile all over the blanket covering his legs. He's been through this before, it's just one step closer to miscarriaging. He can conceive, but his body barely adjusts to it.

Doctor Mills rushes to his side and guides his head by the chin above a plastic bucket. He doesn't complain about the vomit that covers his hand or the cuff of his white doctor coat's arm sleeve being stained.

"You need to eat something."

Louis glares at the doctor, spitting into the bucket. The only soothing thing about the words said is that it isn't coming out of Harry's mouth. Vomiting or not, Louis would have whacked the living grits out of his costar.

"No thanks."

Doctor Mills doesn't respond as he removes the leaking blanket, placing it into the bucket and leaving the room. He comes back a couple of minutes later with a new blanket, an empty bucket and a toothbrush and toothpaste. He's merely thanked by Louis who is too weak to say anything more at this point. The doctor leaves again, clipboard in hand.

-

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

Harry directs that to the stupid hospital vending machine that is nicking his cash and to the voice of Zayn on the other side of the line.

The curly haired lad clutches onto his phone and bangs on the vending machine, well aware of the plenty of eyes on his half naked figure.

"It's been, what? Three hours."

_"That's all the time they need, H."_

"Should I auction my shirt?"

The packet of Cheetos edge closer to falling. Harry doesn't mind the aching pain in his hands, as long as he gets his Cheetos.

_"You should auction your bare upper half. Pics of that are out too."_

The green eyed man finally glances at all the eyes on him, counts about six phone cameras facing him, and then responds.

"I'd quite like to keep my upper half, thanks Z."

_"So, what's going on with Louis? He alright?"_

"YES, FUCK YES! Thank God- _oh!_ I mean yeah, he's good... Sorry, my Cheetos finally came out. I couldn't care if that fuckface was on his way to death."

_"Then why'd you take him to the hospital?"_

Harry can hear the mocking tone in Zayn's voice but doesn't take too much notice as he rips open his packet of Cheetos and stuffs some in his mouth.

"Uh, Christopher needs him alive, Z, not suffocating on his vomit."

_"Yeah, I know. But you could have just called an ambulance. You even carried him!"_

"I threw him on my shoulder like a ragdoll, mate. Come to think of it, that's probably why he threw up his guts down my back."

_"Yeah, but you still carried him."_

The green eyed man huffs, crunching on his Cheetos as he ponders for an answer.

"I don't need to justify my actions."

_"It looks like you care."_

"Over my dead body."

_"Over your alive body."_

"Shut up and suck some dick."

_"Pussy, you mean."_

"Yeah, okay, bye."

He doesn't let Zayn respond and ends the call. Tucking his phone into the back of his jeans, he begins his jouney down the hallway, making his way to his co-star's hospital room.

He's nearly spilling his packet of Cheetos all over the floor when he bumps into someone. The curly haired man looks up to see Dr. Mills.

Harry smirks, "pregnant? Really?"

Doctor Mills smiles concerningly at the actor. "Yeah, he's-"

"Got a nasty flu. I know. Give him some good medicine, yeah? I don't want his sickness to be passed on to me. Wait, what if it already has? Doc, help me!"

The doctor laughs, patting Harry on the shoulder. "You're gonna be just fine, H. Calm down."

Harry smiles, "well, see you, doc. I'm going to see Louis now."

"Be kind!"

He's several footsteps away when he utters, "no promises," in response and turns the corner.

He makes it back to Louis' room and discards of his empty Cheetos packet in the bin by the door. He's in a jolly good mood despite his shirt being ruined and having to walk around the hospital hallways half naked.

However, he's greeted with a look of death from Louis who watches him enter from his spot on the hospital bed.

"Did I say to come back?"

"I felt your desperation and need for me from all the way down the hallway."

Louis glares, "I'm not in the mood to joke Harry, or see you."

"Calling me by my actual name for no apparent reason, are you? That's new." The green eyed man takes a seat beside Louis on the edge of the bed.

"No. Your actual name is asshole. Now get out."

"No."

Louis scoffs. He's really not in the mood for it. He may be calm on the outside, but on the inside he's shattering. There's the very evident reason of him being _fucking pregnant_ as to why he's collapsing inside.

But what's got him hurling over in rage, regret and leaving him feeling degraded though, is _who_ got him pregnant. He knows exactly who.

That, he can't and won't admit.

"Harry, for your own sake, get out."

The man deadpans, leaning back on his two hands beside Louis' legs and facing the anticipating boy. "This flu has left you moody as hell."

"Harry."

_"Louis."_

It's expected, he knows, the fist flying to his face and the strike against his jaw. He tends to get abused by Louis when he pisses him off. He laughs.

"I need my face for filming, you know!"

"You fucking piece of shit, get out. Get out! Get the fuck out now! I don't want to see you!"

Harry feigns a loud gasp before he is filled with a significant amout of anger as he clutches onto his jaw. "What the fuck did I do?! You abusive son of a bitch!"

"Oh, don't you fucking go there! Don't make me rearrange that ugly ass face!"

"See! Abusive!"

Arguing with Harry makes Louis feel much better about his situation, about the thoughts attacking him from every corner of his mind.

He clasps his fingers around Harry's wrist and bends his arm back painfully. The result of that is Harry using his free hand and mass strength to rip the blue eyed boy's hand off of him and pin both of his wrists down above his head on the pillow.

Harry has a knee beside one of Louis' thick thighs and his other knee presses against his stomach, pinning the boy completely down. Harry's just about panting as he looks down at the ill boy beneath him who stares at him with wide, teary eyes.

It's a new look, and a new position - he's half straddling the boy. It's an awkward position because he would rather Louis be straddling him.

As soon as that thought crosses his mind, though, he rips his hands off Louis' wrists as if his skin is heated at four thousand degrees burning into his hands and leaving nothing but charred bone.

He stumbles out of his position and off the bed. When he faces the blue eyed boy again, he catches the sight of a stray tear falling down his cheek. _For fuck's sake._

"Don't fucking cry, you baby. I didn't even fucking hurt you."

Louis doesn't respond, only looks down at his lap. He knows if he does, he will say all the wrong things.

"God dammit! I'm leaving."

Louis doesn't even try to stop him, because all he can filter through his mind is despite the benefits of having another miscarriage, his co-star's knee digging into his stomach and risking killing the undeveloped embryo breaks him.

It's only been half an hour since he found out, but from the minute he started throwing up after knowing that his flu had gone, he just knew what and why.

He knew already. Having it confirmed pulled him out of his hazy daydream of acting like it wasn't true. It slapped him in the face.

The father of the baby inside of him is the person he hates with all his heart.

_Harry Fucking Styles._

He would never know, because if this baby doesn't miscarriage, Louis makes a pact with himself right there in that moment as Harry leaves the room without the urge to come back, that he will get an abortion.

This would have never happened.

-

It's five days before Louis signs out of the hospital. It's also five days before he gets hounded by paparazzi with questions as he leaves the hospital. Questions that are caused by none other than the demon Harry Styles.

Thankfully, Gigi is at his side giving him a ride home and guiding him through the paparazzi. He's not weak to the point where he can't drive, but he doesn't exactly have his car nearby.

Despite Gigi being by his side, he feels like he's being knocked out right past her and winded at the one question yelled by the paparazzi that catches his attention.

_"Are you and Harry dating?!"_

Gigi has to grip him by the bicep and drag him faster to her Range Rover to prevent Louis cursing at the paparazzi and putting his name negatively in the tabloids.

As soon as the car door shuts behind him, he's looking at Gigi, face consumed with fury, and he scoffs.

"What the fuck did he do for them to come up with a question like that?!"

Gigi starts the engine without a comment to her co-star.

"For Christ's sake! I'm going to beat the shit out of that motherfucking asshole!"

It's only when she drives out of the hospital and onto the LA roads does she respond to Louis' round of curses.

"He didn't do a single thing apart from take your ass to the hospital, you recall?"

Louis seethes and then props his feet up on the car's dashboard. "Yes I fucking recall. How does a question like that arise from him taking me to the God damn hospital?"

Gigi stops at a traffic light, switching the air conditioning on and rolling down her window. "He practically opened the car door for you, picked you up and carried you. Sounds lovey dovey to me."

Louis glares, feeling the car start to move again beneath him. He rolls down his window and sticks his head out of the car, inhaling the warm LA air. When he brings his head back in, he finally responds.

"I was fucking unconscious."

"And he fucking took care of you. That's why they're asking if you two are dating, fucktard."

He knows he's pissing her off with the conversation, but she's the only other person in the car to vent to.

"I fucking hate him. Over my dead ass body."

"Should have told the paps that."

They sit in a comfortable silence despite Louis being tense and Gigi being slightly irked off. It's only when she drives onto the freeway does Louis talk, or rather protests.

"G, this isn't the way to my house."

"We're not going to your house."

"Then where the fuck are we going?"

"To a cast interview with James Corden to explain to the public why our release date for the handful of episodes meant to air has been pushed back."

It isn't his fault. Well, it's half his fault, and half Harry's. Nearly a month ago when they, God forbid, rehearsed that one scene that they couldn't get through without yelling 'cut!' which lead to heated sex and a boatload of unnecessary compliments, Harry wouldn't have known it was vital to use a condom.

It's always God damn vital to use a condom, but for Louis' case, it was extremely vital.

He wants to take responsibility for the turn of events that have left him sick and out of work, but it's easier to blame Harry.

So he blames Harry. Not out loud, though, because then that would lead to unnecessary questions being asked.

When they arrive to The Late Late Show studios, he's all too familiarly hauled into a room for hair and makeup and a change into a much nicer set of clothes than the joggers and t-shirt he'd been given from Gigi so he could change out of his hospital gown.

He hasn't seen Harry in all these five days. It has given him much time to process the fact that _he's pregnant with the baby of the man he hates._

A man he hates with all his heart and is not dating, so when him, Harry Fucking Styles, Gigi, and his three other co-stars Nick, Luke and Taylor are sat in front of James' crowd and are questioned about their little event from 5 days ago, Louis wants to punch the ogre _Harry Fucking Styles_ who is annoyingly sat beside him.

James, laughing with the audience and the cast, looks down at the cards in his hands and then looks towards Louis and Harry.

"Louis, it's great you're out of the hospital."

The crowd claps in agreement, awaiting his response. Louis pulls on an A star smile.

"Yeah, it's great to be smelling the fresh LA air again. Nothing like the scent of Paparazzi pictures."

The audience laughs along with James. Louis laughs because at least he got to throw up down Harry's back.

"Had a jolly time throwing up down Harry's back?" James questions, face filled with amusement.

Louis chuckles, "a jolly good one."

He can feel Harry burning holes into the side of his face with his eyes. He acts like he doesn't notice it.

"You guys have a very strong fanbase, yeah? Well there's been some jolly good memes too."

The crowd claps much louder at that, no doubt being fans of their cast and show. The cast laughs along with them, everyone apart from Harry. Louis even turns his head to laugh in Harry's face and take advantage of the moment.

But when their eyes lock, Louis feels vulnerable, like Harry can read his mind. That frightens him, because even though Harry will never know about the person inside of Louis, that doesn't erase Louis' fear that he will.

Louis turns to face James, pretending that he doesn't just feel like he's been stripped bare in front of everyone.

"There's also the jolly good question _are you two dating?_ "

The smile wipes off Louis' face and he stares at James, uncomfortable, flustered and quite annoyed.

"No."

It almost comes out as if he's in disbelief when really he just can't seem to wrap his head around how anyone would even believe that they're romantically together.

"So Larry Stylinson isn't real?"

"No."

Harry responds this time, and whilst Louis has never heard the name, clearly Harry has.

"Never."

"There you have it guys, Larry isn't real!"

There are many protests from the audience and just to make it just a bit bareable, Harry lightens the mood. Well, his version of lightening the mood is by insulting Louis.

"Louis' too annoying for me."

James is dropping his mouth and raising his eyebrows in shock and amusement and then is laughing loudly.

"Wait, so if Louis becomes less annoying, would you date him, Harry?"

Harry only says what he says next to lighten the audience, but it gives them more about Louis and Harry to talk about and whilst Louis loves seeing him and Harry in magazines and in newspapers and as headlines because of their arguments, he does not like to see the word, "dating" being associated with them. It's insulting, degrading, and just as embarrassing as the fact that they have fucked.

And Louis' pregnant.

The cerulean eyed boy feels a wave of nausea come over him. He doesn't throw up, but he wants to get out of this interview as soon as he can.

"Yeah, yeah I would."

It's sarcastic and fake but everyone else takes it the way they want to take it. Louis mentally plans to purchase a gun and shoot Harry in the leg for the unwanted headlines that are going to be in the newspapers very soon.

When the interview finishes, Louis' grabbing his phone from the dressing room table and clutching the ultrasound picture that was given to him two days ago by Dr. Mills. It has his name, the picture of the baby inside him, and how many weeks along he is.

3 weeks.

It's all too familiar. He's been through this nearly five years ago when he got knocked up from a one night stand. He wasn't prepared for a baby, neither was his body. He was thankful for the miscarriage, it saved him guilt from an abortion.

His body made it to 7 weeks before he miscarriaged.

It's horrible to want a miscarriage now as soon as possible, but no one can ever know.

No one will ever know about the baby inside of him, the _undeveloped embryo_ inside of him.

So when he's bumping into Harry as he's leaving the room and the ultrasound picture is cutting through the air to the floor, he panics.

"For fuck's sake, asshole!" Louis' yells, hurrying to the floor to pick it up. However, there's a foot dragging the picture back and picking it up before Louis can.

"Well, well, well," Harry gives Louis an intimidating smirk, locking his green eyes with the smaller boy's blue ones. "What do we have here?"

When the curly haired man finally looks down to scan the card in his hand, his eyes grow wide and his lips part uselessly as the air gets stuck in his throat.

He catches the name written above the picture, but it's ripped out of his grasp before he can read any further.

Louis, stuck still and frozen, gulps and watches the man like a hawk, afraid he'll snatch the ultrasound image back and read any further.

Harry, after a handful of seconds of processing and handling shock, regains his breath and almost stumbles back.

"It's true... How?"

Louis takes a step back, and then another. He wants to avoid this conversation, but if he can lie now, he can avoid any questions later.

"How? How?!"

Louis tries to answer, but he can't find any words. He wants to call Harry out for being on drugs which is causing his absurd behaviour and questions, but doesn't find his mouth moving.

"It's not mine, is it? Is it mine? It's mine, isn't it? It's mine."

The smaller boy coughs awkwardly, and pulls on his best acting face hiding the fact that he's completely crumbling in fear.

"No. It's not. It's not yours. It happened a couple of weeks before we...did what we did."

The lie comes out so easily and effortlessly that Louis is proud of himself. The feeling relaxes him for a mere moment before he's put on edge again at the thought of Harry finding out the truth.

Harry feels a twist in his stomach at Louis' response, at the thought of Louis being knocked up from some random person. He pretends that it doesn't irritate him...it does and it doesn't.

"Thank fucking God."

Harry runs his fingers through his hair, and breathes a sigh of relief. But then he's curious, and asks, just to be sure his co-star isn't lying:

"Who's is it?"

Louis has to lie. He needs an alibi. A name. _What's a name?_ But then he'll need to confirm it, just to be safe. _Who's someone who could cover? Someone who is gay? Someone who is fucking around with people?_

"It's Nick's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment? Kudo? Bookmark?...so you don't lose this!!! <3
> 
> Much love .x
> 
> Follow me on my new Larry insta account which is just a load of bullshit...get it? :) I'm active there! 
> 
> @harrymarriedin


	4. Nick's, Nick's, Nick's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHED EXAMS AND NOW HAVE THE LONGEST SUMMER OF MY LIFE
> 
> AND I GOT HARRY STYLES TICKETS
> 
> OMG I'M CRYING ACID!!! FUCK YES.
> 
> SO HERE'S ANOTHER CHAPTER FOR YOU SUNSHINES

"Nick's?"

Louis doesn't respond. The answer had come out of his mouth without a second thought and he is internally scolding himself for such a risky reply.

The pair of green eyes belonging to his co-star stare at him, coruscating with amusement. The look on his face is insulting, as if he's judging Louis for the choice of father to his child.

Given who the father really is, Harry wouldn't be laughing as he questions the smaller lad, if he knew.

"So you're telling me you shagged Nick?"

Louis sighs, clutching the ultrasound picture to his stomach. Whilst his face deadpans, Harry's face looks like it's going to explode in laughter.

"And I shagged you, what's the issue?"

The smirk tinging Harry's lips gets replaced with a straight line. Harry stuffs a hand in his pocket and runs his other hand through his brunette strands.

"You and I both know that meant nothing so don't bring it up."

"Shagging Nick meant nothing so don't bring that up!"

Louis takes an angry step forward. He wants to contain himself and leave in one piece, but the actor has his blood scorching hot and his fist aching to come up and knock the lad in his face.

"Clearly it meant something! You have his _baby_ in you!"

Harry takes his own step forward, standing tall against Louis and making the blue eyed actor feel irritatingly small. Louis bites on his tongue.

"Why are you angry? It doesn't concern you."

It does concern him. It concerns Harry one hundred and ten percent. It doesn't make Louis selfish to not tell him the truth, it just makes him sensible.

"I don't think your character has been written in to be _fucking pregnant_ for season 5!"

"Which concerns Christopher and Liam and the rest of the writing crew, not you. I ask again, why are you angry?"

Harry doesn't have a valid answer to that. He's too close to Louis' face to conjure up one. He doesn't know why he's angry, he just is. He wants to insult Louis to divert any attention away from the fact that he's irritated, but he just can't find anything to say.

"I'm leaving. Don't follow me."

Louis brushes straight past him without a glance back. Harry turns around to scoff at him.

"We're going to the same place, dumbass."

Louis halts in his track, famously rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh. He bites down on his cheek, because he's really close to leaving without having to create a massive arguement with the man watching him.

"Get in the second car. I'll be with Nick and Luke."

"And leave me with the girls?"

Louis smirks, and doesn't care one bit about how his response leaves the green eyed man.

"Like the whore you are."

He leaves the room, Harry trailing behind. Louis doesn't expect an insult back, he's already won this somewhat argument.

Harry's just about to step a foot into his designated car, when he sees in his peripheral vision to his left Louis, arms wrapped around Nick's neck. The actor is on the tips of his toes, and Nick's hands come to perch themselves on his waist.

Their embrace looks loving, which is expected given how fond the cast are with each other spending almost five years together. However, in the back of Harry's judging mind, there's a hammering, a thudding telling him their embrace is not for the sake of them being friends and co-stars.

With the miniscule pang in Harry's chest and the way his palms clam up at the sight, his thoughts derail right back to the moment he had his own hands around that waist. It meant nothing, it never will, but it doesn't stop him feeling naked.

He feels naked because he's stood clutching onto the hood of the car as Louis' lips reach up to give Nick a peck on the cheek, one that leads to Louis hiding his face in the crook of the other man's neck, and Harry is sure whoever watches himself in that precise moment notices his change of attitude.

Then he reminds himself that's the father of Louis' baby. _Louis' freaking baby._ They have fucked, just like him and Louis have, and he should be grateful it's not his baby.

He would never be able to cope if he were having a baby with the person he hates. He hates Louis, from the bottom of his guts, and the sight of him happy in Nick's arms is something he wants to tear away.

Not because he wants it himself - God no - but because he doesn't think Louis deserves it.

But instead, he rips his eyes from the scene and respectfully gets into the second of the two cars. Gigi is in the driver's seat, the Range Rover hers, and Taylor sits beside her chewing on a mint gum.

Harry sits at the back, an expression far too comedic for the two girls to dismiss. They look at him, laugh and turn up the music to blast out lyrics to songs he isn't really listening to as they wait for the first car to move.

Because whilst they think he's evidently annoyed because he probably lost an argument with Louis again - which he has - he's just watched Louis be happy which he doesn't approve of and he has just found out that said person is walking around with a baby in him.

And it's Nick.

It doesn't mean anything to him at all, but he's allowed to be shocked and feel somewhat irritated because _just wait until Christopher finds out._

He takes out his phone and fiddles with it, looking out of the window.

Louis sees the flash of a handful of cameras, and smiles into Nick's neck.

"Open the car door for me, would you love?"

Nick, amused by the sudden command, pulls away from the boy to open the car door.

"After you, babe... Do tell me, Lou, why is it today of all days you decide to touch me after avoiding exactly that as if I have the plague?"

Louis takes a seat in the car, Nick following and closing the car door behind him. Luke sits in the front passenger seat, and their driver Paul sits behind the wheel. Louis doesn't answer Nick, just puts a sweet smile on his face.

"Where are we headed, Paul?"

Paul looks at him through the mirror, smiling knowingly. "It's a surprise."

Louis scowls at that, then leans his head on Nick's shoulder. Luke turns around to look at the two and has a very obvious smirk on his face.

"You two together?"

"Not yet," Louis smiles innocently. "Maybe if Nick gets my message, he'll ask me out."

"Woah, wait there, Tommo. Your what now?"

"Jesus, Grimshaw. Take a hint."

"Oh, I'm taking it," there's a whole new look on Nick's face, and he's feeling incredibly elated at what he's hearing.

Paul rolls out onto the LA roads, the second car in tow. Louis pulls out his phone, just as a mere distraction from Luke's further questions and smirking. Louis doesn't expect to see two texts from none other than Harry.

**Shitbag: You and Nick a thing?**

**Shitbag: Nevermind I don't care**

Louis frowns. If he didn't care he wouldn't have texted him in the first place. He then rolls his eyes because _wow_.

**Dicklinson: Dumbass don't text me unless it's to wake me up in the morning**

The blue eyed boy taps on his thigh and awaits a text because despite him telling Harry that, he knows Harry is too stubborn to listen.

**Shitbag: I'm pretty sure the puke is doing a good job of that**

**Dicklinson: Can u not**

**Shitbag: Excuse me for being shocked that ur blimming pregnant with fucking Nick's baby Jesus Christ!**

**Dicklinson: Yeah now get over it, it has shit all to do with u act as if I never told u**

It takes a while for Louis to receive another text. He feels at peace believing that Harry has given up on their unwanted texted conversation. Then he hears his phone chime.

**Shitbag: Does Nick know?**

Louis gulps. He doesn't, and he won't ever either. He's putting all his faith into a miscarriage now.

**Dicklinson: No so don't u fucking dare mention a thing to him**

**Dicklinson: Now good fucking bye**

Half an hour passes before they arrive at a rented hall fancy with champagne glasses and bottles of alcohol ranging from expensive Chadonnays and Antinoris wines to Jack Daniels whiskey and Smirnoff vodka.

They are suited with the magnificent view of palm trees and the beach through the wall that faces it that is entirely glass. There's a setup to the left which bluetooths the phone controlling the music that quietens just before they enter.

Before Louis can process the amazing view or the numerous bottles of wines, he is faced with a large banner saying _welcome back_ and the many voices of the entire crew, Zayn, Liam, Niall, Christopher, Lottie - everyone including faces he has never seen, welcoming him back and applauding.

He forgets that he never received a _good fucking bye_ from Harry, who is no doubt footsteps behind him by the girls.

He blushes, flustered, and wraps his arms around the first person who comes up to him. He's only been away for twenty one days, and he hasn't died, but their crew is known for doing the spontaneous.

As the music starts, he doesn't complain as he explores the room, edging his way nearer the alcohol.

There are conversations loud over the blasting of music, people dancing and having a laugh. Christopher is relaxing at a table with a shot of vodka. Niall aimlessly talks to Taylor about God knows what, splattering red wine over her shoes by accident. Liam works his way through a number of Chardonnays. Zayn flirts ever so noticeably with Gigi who returns the action. Harry? He's nowhere in Louis' sight and it leaves the latter smiling.

Louis is a good hour into shamelessly creating dirty conversations with Nick before everyone's glasses are being filled with a shot of vodka in order to toast and down it. Christopher stands, holding a microphone.

"I just want to say today is not just a celebration of Louis coming back, in which I've missed you so dearly, Tomlinson, in a way I never thought I could. Season five needs Tyler! The fans need Tyler! But today is also an official announcement that the characters Tyler and Alex will be a couple. It's our first gay couple and views will skyrocket. Harry, Louis, I hope you look forward to the many kissing and sex scenes you'll be having. Cheers!"

Louis downs his shot of vodka in attempt to unhear the words that have just come out of Christopher's mouth. He shrugs Nick's arm off from around his shoulders and makes his way over to the selection of alcohol.

He's not in his right mind to care that he shouldn't be drinking. He's prone to miscarriage, and he's going to. He just knows it.

The blue eyed actor has a half full glass of tequila half way to his mouth before there is a large hand grabbing the base of the wine glass and taking it away from him.

"Oh no no, no you don't."

Louis knows that voice, it makes him cringe.

"Do you fucking mind?" He goes to grab his alcohol back but Harry's lifting it high into the air. Louis damns himself for being little in height.

"Are you fucking mental?!"

Louis dares to lock his eyes with the pair of emerald green ones judging him. He lets out an exaggerated sigh.

"If I was, wouldn't I be in a mental hospital?"

"Don't think Christopher would allow that. Why are you fucking drinking, asshole? You've got a bun in the oven!"

"One, I want to wallow in alcohol because it depresses me to hear we're going to be intimate together in scenes. Two, never, ever say that again."

A flinch of aggravation crosses over Harry's face for a milisecond, and the blue eyed boy doesn't catch it at all. Harry knows he isn't a revolting person - loads of people want to have sex with him, or rather pretend they're having sex with him. He insn't offended, no, because Louis and him have had sex. But the sarcasm stirs his guts and leaves him feeling a bit bitter.

"You know what? Here," he hands back the glass, right into Louis' hand.

However Harry is letting go of the glass too soon, Louis unable to get a good grip on it, and it is colliding with the floor sending shards and triangles of glass across it. The alcohol splatters across a large surface area, which includes Harry's sandy brown suede boots.

"Wow, you can't even pass a glass, yet you can pass yourself around to multiple people." Louis sarcastically laughs, giving Harry a very evident dirty look. Louis mutters, "whore," and then leaves Harry to clean up the mess and itching to destroy Louis' existence.

What makes Harry grit his teeth and cut his finger accidentally as he collects the broken glass, is the sight of Louis being welcomed into Nick's arms for a dance. A dance that results in Louis being twirled and swept off his feet, literally.

Harry is not jealous that Louis' happy with Nick. He just doesn't think he deserves it.

"Harry? Want to dance?"

The curly headed lad looks up from his knelt position on the floor to see blonde strands and red lipstick.

"No, thanks, Taylor."

"Oh, come on!" She grabs at his bicep, attempting to pull him up towards the mass of people dancing.

"I said no."

"Have a little fun, Styles!"

Harry stands up, lips in a straight line, and wipes the blood on his finger off on his black jeans.

"I don't want to dance with you Taylor, nor do I consider dancing with you as fun. I have given you my answer. Take it and leave."

She isn't able to give a verbal response, and only gives a look of anger before trodding off to Gigi and Zayn.

Harry is left once again cleaning away at the spilt alcohol and broken glass. His eyebrows are furrowed and he tries to relax the muscles in his face, but he can't stop the pissed off expression he expresses.

When he is done, he downs a shot of vodka, merely tipsy and definitely not drunk, and then he leaves the place without a word to anyone.

He gets in an uber and arrives at his house within ten minutes. He's always lived on the coast of LA, a lengthly drive away from his co-stars who live in rich apartments in the city.

It's nice to be on his own after spending a long duration of the day on set and around numerous amounts of people. He's able to prop his feet up on his coffee table enjoying the LA breeze that flows throughout his house through his back doors that lead to the beach.

He gets to stuff his feet in the sand and watch children knock down built sandcastles and cry, their parents providing them comfort. He gets to hear the gawking of seagulls and see groups of friends huddling around fires as the sun sets.

Harry sees it all from afar, a large section of the beach being private. It was never always like that. Harry wanted locals to play volleyball outside his house on the sand, he wanted to watch magazines fly back and hit tanners on the face on really windy but warm days. However, he's too famous to have that luxury.

He learned that when he rose to fans banging on his backyard door. He still gets the occasional fan doing that, but it's very rare.

So he's able to strip down naked and strut around his house without being too frightened of a picture getting snapped and his nudes getting leaked online.

Life living here is amazing for Harry.

But as it nears seven in the evening and he's got his feet stuffed in the warm sand by himself, he can't help but let his thoughts wander to Louis. And he starts to hate the fact that Nick and Louis live so close to each other whilst he is so far away. Nick and Louis could be with each other right now.

He only hates it because he likes to spend a lot of his time arguing with and insulting Louis, and he can't do that if the smaller lad is suddenly spending his time at hotel Nick Grimshaw.

That thought irks him, especially since he's in a fine mood to insult Louis, face to face. He wants to watch him get offended.

So he grabs his phone from inside his house.

**Shitbag: Get here**

The message is read before Harry has the chance to sit back down on his towel on the sand.

**Dicklinson: Excuse me? What?**

Harry revels in the feeling of the grains of sand on his bare feet before he replies.

**Shitbag: I said get here**

**Dicklinson: I know what u fucking said I'm wondering why u think I have fucks to give to go to u rn**

**Shitbag: Just get here**

Harry stares off at the horizon line that's due to have the sun start setting within the next two hours. He really just wants to see Louis and get rid of all his negative energy by insulting him, but a miniscule part of him also wants to see him because he can't help but ponder on their kiss.

It meant nothing, nada - Harry hates Louis, but the last time Harry had a real kiss before Louis that was not one he acted, it had been a long time. So it's the kiss he most remembers.

**Dicklinson: No**

**Shitbag: Yes**

**Dicklinson: No asshole**

**Shitbag: I want to see you**

**Dicklinson: I'm with Nick**

Harry bites on his tongue. He wants to end the conversation, but he wants to see Louis. He doesn't know in which way Louis means he is with Nick. He finds himself curious about it, which indicates that he cares. He really shouldn't.

**Shitbag: I don't care. Christopher gave me an exclusive scene we have to rehearse for Monday. Hurry up**

It takes a good five minutes before Harry receives a reply which is of a middle finger and car emoji, and it's an hour and a half later before Harry finally hears the bell.

By then, he's already inside, feet propped up on his coffee table and fingers sliding across the glass screen of his phone. He uses great effort to haul himself off the couch and over to unlock the door for Louis.

He's greeted with the grand sight his co-star with a train track of hickey's down the left side of his neck. They're a deep purple, and in the crease where his neck and shoulder meets, there's a very evident bite mark.

Harry props his elbow on the door frame.

"I said I wanted to see you but not with Satan-like love bites on your neck."

Louis blinks, face void of any emotion. Harry continues.

"I hope paparazzi didn't follow you, they're going to know I'm letting a slut into my house."

There's a twitch in Louis' face, and Harry smiles smugly. The blue eyed boy stares at Harry coldly.

"I believe that our society's definition of a 'slut' is someone who sleeps around with multiple people in a short period of time. Last time I checked, having someone's mouth on your neck wasn't sleeping around. Therefore, I am not a slut and you need to check yourself, mate, because one day you're going to say that to the wrong person and they will fuck you up because of it."

The curly headed lad opens his mouth, but then closes it. He steps back, stretching a hand out to give Louis way, and the smaller boy steps in.

Part of Harry is pissed at Louis for shutting him up, and part of him is amazed Louis had the words too. He isn't given much time to ponder his feelings as said person is talking to him.

"If it's a sex scene, I'll only learn the lines. I don't want to be in a compromising position with you right now."

Louis lays his jean jacket on the back of a chair, and kicks off his shoes, tossing them into a random corner as if it's his house and it's okay to do so. Harry stares, irritated but unable to say anything. He was looking forward to the thrill of insulting Louis and seeing the horrified look on his face, but now that's the last thing he's thinking of.

What he's thinking of are those littered hickey's on his co-star's neck.

"Nick's?"

Harry steps over, following Louis who begins making his way to the back of Harry's house.

"Nick's?" Louis questions back.

"Are those Nick's lovebites on your neck?"

Louis steps through the open back door and makes his way down the steps onto Harry's private part of the large beach. The sun is setting and casts a beautiful array of pinks, oranges and reds across the darkening sky.

"Yeah."

Harry takes a seat on the bottom step, feet touching where the sand begins.

"Nick's baby, Nick's lovebites. What's next? Nick's surname?"

The cerulean eyed boy who has been staring at the horizon line engulfing the sun turns around to face Harry.

"That's insulting."

"What? All you gotta do us let it slip that your having his kid and he'll drop to his knees - if he isn't already doing that in order to suck your dick - and propose to you."

The smaller boy takes a seat on the towel Harry has left on the sand. He flings off his socks, throwing them back right into Harry's lap, and wriggles his toes into the sand.

"Just because I have Nick's lovebites, doesn't mean I'm getting sexual with Nick."

"Don't lie to me, Dicklinson."

"Why would I, Styleswhore?"

A moment of silence passes where Louis stays entranced with the Saturday night horizon line and Harry feels charmed by the curves of the boy his eyes trace over. His chest feels heavy, and he starts to think of how he had his hands around that waist.

"So, are we gonna act this scene or not? You're eating away at my valuable time."

"You class getting lovebites from Nick as 'valuable time'?"

Louis turns to face him again, "I class being anywhere but here with you as valuable time."

Harry hums in response, looking off into the distance. He becomes so consumed with his thoughts he almost doesn't notice Louis making his way over to him to plop down in front of him. Louis looks up through thick eyelashes at Harry.

"There's no fucking scene to rehearse, is there?"

Harry looks down, directly into the blue wash of colour staring at him.

"Nope," he pops the 'p', "...but I wanted to see you."

Louis screws up his face in disgust at the thought of the person he hates wanting to see him for the sake of it, "why the fuck do you want to see me?"

Harry diverts his attention to the horizon line again. He fiddles with his fingers awkwardly. He doesn't know what he's getting at.

"Well, you're having a baby, and willingly drinking alcohol like it's okay. And assuming I'm the only one who knows, I wanted to make sure you weren't losing your ballsacks."

"Wow," Louis mockingly laughs, "you give a fuck about me? That's sweet but you hate me Harry, and I hate you. People who hate each other don't care about each other, mate."

Harry scratches at the back of his head, quickly looks down at the brunette before him and then looks away at a fire being set far down on the public part of the beach with a group of people begining to huddle around it.

"I don't give a damn about you, I care about...the baby."

"It's not your baby."

"Yeah, well, you know how I like kids."

"It ain't born yet, for Christ's sake."

"I just..." Harry trails off, unsure on how to redeem himself. He swallows and locks his eyes on the pair still staring up at him.

The smaller boy's blues are crystal clear. There isn't really any anger, or any negative emotion accenting the blue, there's just the obvious trace of humour. Of course Louis would be humoured at Harry pathetically caring for him whether it's his baby or Louis himself. There's that little bit of disgust in his eyes too.

It's weird, abnormal, and makes Harry feel idiotic. He hates Louis. He hates his voice, his attitude, his personality, and he most of all hates how he's somehow making Harry give even the littlest damn about him.

The green eyed man feels confused, and then feels angry at feeling confused. He doesn't get a chance to vent as Louis begins to talk.

"I hate you but I find you hot," is what comes out of Louis' mouth before Harry can continue.

Harry's jaw drops and his mouth gapes. His hands freeze in his lap, unsure of where to put them. Louis looks even more amused, but Harry is able to make out the slight embrassment Louis feels at letting that slip out of his mouth.

Louis blinks. What he's admitted has no relevance to the conversation they were just having, so it's out of place and none of the two boys know what to say next.

The smaller boy comes up with telling Harry to shut his mouth _before a dick falls in_ , but that's out of their conversation from nearly a month ago, and it leads Louis' thoughts straight to that morning of the kiss he foolishly initiated.

And then, for some reason, whilst Harry comes to close his mouth, lips a rosy pink, and the last of the sun makes his eyes sparkle, Louis starts to feel the urge to wrap his arms around Harry's neck, and pull him in.

Louis knows he should hold back, that associating himself with Harry like that is threatening to their hateful relationship, that kissing him means that he feels something, which he doesn't, he tells himself. He knows. But he sees Harry's head tilt, and inch sickly slow towards him, and he can't help but feel a pull of magnitude between them.

He gently grasps at Harry's shirt and reaches his lips up to meet the man halfway. Their lips touch with a bittersweet sensation and Louis traps Harry's top lip between his own lips.

Where there should be the shoving away of Harry's hands, they come up to cup either of Louis' cheeks instead. His hands are clammy, as if he's been nervous this entire time talking to Louis. His fingertips pick points on the sides of his face, and his lips glide with freeness and sensitivity.

It isn't a sloppy kiss. They don't include tongues, they just bask in the feeling of only pressing a pair of lips against another.

Naturally, as soon as the green eyed man's hands clasp at Louis' waist and begin to pull him up, Louis follows like a puppet and slots himself between Harry's legs, knees in the sand.

Louis lets out a hum as Harry tries to pull him by his lovehandles impeccably closer, his crotch in contact with the middle of Louis' stomach. Louis' back curves with his front being drawn forward, and Harry's knees clutch tightly to his sides to prevent Louis from trying to put the littlest space between them.

Harry's lips are pretty and skilled and it leaves Louis weak in the knees. When the pair of lips begin to kiss away from Louis' mouth and to his jawline, Louis becomes pliant unwillingly. Large hands grab at Louis' ass, and knead his cheeks.

It's pretty amazing, the sensation of having Harry caress him in places he hasn't been caressed in for some time. It's even more amazing when Harry grips him on the back of his thighs and pulls him up onto his lap, Louis' legs on either side of Harry's.

But the jolt of movement and Harry's mumble of, _"I want to fuck you,"_ shocks Louis back to reality and he slips a hand between the curly headed man's lips and his neck, pushing his head away. However, Louis doesn't draw himself away from Harry yet, he doesn't scramble off his thighs.

He grips Harry's face, making his greens grab eye contact with Louis' blues, and the smaller boy begins to speak softly.

"Harry, no. This- _this_ , can't happen."

He sees a flicker of pain flash over Harry's eyes, but it is ever so miniscule and it doesn't mean anything to him, because it's only Harry getting hurt because of the rejection of potentially having a shag, not because it's Louis himself.

"I hate you, and you hate me. That's how it's meant to stay. So, please...find somebody else to ram your dick into. I'm off limits and...and I'm with Nick."

Harry's eyes furrow, and then he's just about nudging Louis off his thighs, leaving him almost falling and to sit down on the step beside him.

"You're with Nick?"

Louis hums, eyes shifting to the horizon line glowing a golden yellow, the last of the sun gone.

It's so peaceful outside with the roll and tumble of the waves, the light breeze feathering through their hair, and the sqwaking of seagulls. It's so peaceful that Louis merely expects the words next coming from Harry.

"Leave."

The blue eyed brunette turns his head to the green eyed man. His mouth falls slightly agape.

"Excuse me?"

" _Leave_. If you think it's morally right to be with someone and kiss someone else, I really don't want the paps to know you're at my house."

Louis scoffs and stands up. He doesn't leave, instead faces Harry with hands on his hips.

"Excuse you, I think it's morally wrong to kick me out without manners."

The look in Harry's eyes makes Louis re-evaluate what has just come out of his mouth. The green eyed man stands up, much taller than Louis, and looks down at him.

"Leave now."

"Maybe when you say it nicer."

"I will call the cops."

"That's low of you, Styles," Louis responds with a level of disgust in his tone, "kicking your own co-star of five years out."

"Shut up."

Louis looks at the angered face of Harry, and can't help but laugh out comically.

"You're pathetic, mate," Louis responds. "What happened to your good round of replies? I miss them, you knew just how to insult me."

Harry grits his teeth and takes a step back to refrain from doing something he'll regret.

"You know why I hate you, Louis? Cause I see what you do with guys. I see how you lead them on and screw them over. Mess with their heads, get under their skin. You _degrade_ them, and I hate you because I liked you and I came so close to being under your foot like shit."

Louis is shocked. Correction: astounded. He definitely doesn't know what to say now.

_The man he hates liked him._

And he doesn't know how to feel. He's taken aback, disgusted, quite flattered, irritated and a little bit swooned all at once.

Albeit, he throws up. All over the sand besides their feet. At least Harry has some sort of response from him.

A very visual one at that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tysm for everything on this story so far .x
> 
> Connect with me on insta: @harrymarriedin


	5. Night Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted more so here you go babies .x
> 
> Thank you for the amazing support!

There's one thing Harry promised himself after realising exactly who Louis Tomlinson is and exactly what he does.

Never to feel anything but hate for him.

He keeps promises, he always does, but as Louis is clutching onto his stomach and hurling up vomit all over the sand, Harry feels worried.

He feels something other than _hate_ for Louis.

He even places a hand on the middle of Louis' back, rubbing circles that really only annoy the blue eyed boy, but Harry doesn't know that.

It's about a minute or so before Louis stops retching on the sand. When he does, he knocks Harry's hand away.

"Don't fucking touch...don't touch me," he attempts to trod up the couple of stairs but drops to his knees with lightheadedness.

Harry watches the scene unfold. He wants to help Louis, but he knows better than to cross his boundaries. He doesn't really have a choice but to help Louis though when the smaller boy gives another attempt at climbing the stairs, but falls alarmingly backwards. He catches his balance barely, and Harry doesn't risk it, picking him up, an arm under his knees and one under his back.

"Harry," Louis' eyes clench shut as he regains his breath. "Put me down...now."

Harry shakes his head, long curls falling to brush Louis on the nose. The green eyed man makes his way into his house, and places Louis down to rest on one of his two couches.

"You have to stay the night," Harry mumbles, brushing back his curls.

The brunette laying down looks up through glazed over eyes, scoffing despite his exhaustion.

"I'm perfectly fine, dickhead. I only threw up. I'm good."

Harry doesn't believe Louis one bit, not when the words are coming out of his mouth slurred.

"Is it the baby...why you're throwing up? What did you drink after I left earlier on?"

Harry takes a seat on the edge of his couch beside Louis' legs. He knows that if Louis had the energy, he would kick him off. Harry only stays because, like he said, he cares about Louis' baby. Not Louis, just his baby.

"Had a good ol' shot of Smirnoff, half a glass of Daniel's," Louis chuckles, eyes closed.

"Did you get drunk?"

"Nah, Lottie and Louise got me caught up in a convo about Pretty Little Liars. Then Christopher introduced me to some new people that will be joining the crew shortly. Then I left."

It falls silent, Harry deep in thought and Louis taking moments to energise himself so he can get up and drive home.

Harry doesn't mean to whack Louis into shock, but he's suddenly pissed off and doesn't care that Louis is jolting upwards.

"You fucking idiot."

The curly haired lad stands up, face consumed with rage. Louis knows he's about to receive a scolding.

"You have a fucking _child_ in you and you think it's okay to potentially ruin their life by fucking drinking?! You sick son of a bitch- _look at me!_ For fuck's sake!"

Louis does, but it's only to laugh mockingly at Harry. "Who said I was keeping the baby?"

Harry's face has a handful of emotions consuming it, but sarcastic humour is what's left tilting his lips upwards.

"That's low for you, Tomlinson. To not tell Nick that he has a child and it be an option that you get rid of it without asking what he wants first."

Harry shakes his head, laughs satirically and folds his arms. 

In the back of Louis' mind, he knows that if that's low, then lying about who the baby's father is must be rock bottom. He ignores the thought.

"You know what? You do you. I don't want to speak to you right now. Go to sleep, rest up and leave in the morning. Don't think about leaving now. I don't want to have to explain to Christopher why one of his actors is in the hospital because they passed out at the steering wheel. Goodnight."

Louis doesn't get to say anything back because Harry is already out of the living room. That's okay though, right now the blue eyed brunette just wants to sleep.

➸

Usually Louis wakes up to the hot sun shining in his face, and the comfort of his own bed. Instead he wakes up to his phone digging into his back beneath him and Harry pacing the living room, clearing away rubbish, moving ornaments into place.

Louis places a hand behind his back and digs out his phone. It's boiling from his body heat, which is hotter than usual given the room is stuffy and warm.

"Open the blimming window, would ya?" Louis croaks out.

Harry doesn't stop his movement to answer Louis, he doesn't answer the blue eyed boy at all. Louis shrugs and clicks on his phone.

_Three messages from Nick:_

**Nick: When are u getting back babe?**

_**10:48pm** _

**Nick: What happened to cuddles and Netflix?**

_**11:14pm** _

**Nick: I'm not happy with this. Call me please**

_**8:20am** _

Louis sighs, bites his lip in thought, and decides to call Nick.

_"Hello? Louis?"_

He sits up, clutching his phone to his ear and rubbing his eye with his free hand.

"Hey-"

_"What the fuck mate?! You hint at me to ask you out, then I do and you ditch me? Fucking lovely, Tomlinson."_

Louis watches Harry open the windows to his living room. At least he heard Louis.

"Sorry Nick, I was sick-"

_"Don't you dare pull the sick card on me, I wasn't born yesterday. If you and Harry got a thing going on, let me know, yeah?"_

"Harry and I have nothing going on."

That makes Harry halt in his steps and snap his head towards Louis, face blank but eyes evidently annoyed. However, he resumes his tasks, dismissing the comment.

"I hate the asshole."

_"Where are you right now, then?"_

Louis sighs, not bothered enough to make up a lie. "At Harry's."

_"Oh that's just dandy. Call me back when you care."_

"Hey! That's not fair."

_"Neither is being forgotten."_

"Nick, I was really sick. I'm not lying."

 _"Prove it._ "

"What, do you want me to bring you to Harry's house and show you the dried up vomit puddle on his sand?"

The line goes silent, and Louis prays Nick will just give it up.

_"No. Listen, forget it. I really do want be together with you Louis, so please show me you care. I'll be waiting."_

Louis hums, Nick saying goodbye. When the phone beeps, he sighs exaggeratedly. Harry's staring at him from the window.

"Nick?"

Louis nods.

Harry looks down, shakes his head and laughs. "I pray for him."

"Excuse me?"

"I pray for him. To know he's going to be or already is wrapped around your finger, about to be toyed with,  _used_ , is rather sad. So I pray for him."

Louis stands up, offended and glares. "You don't have the right to say things like that."

Harry leans against the wall, hair being fluffed by the light breeze coming in.

"And you don't have the right to throw up on my sand."

Louis' mouth gapes open and he scoffs. He can't believe how ridiculous Harry is acting when Louis isn't even being rude, and he doesn't know why either. It's not the mention of Nick, no, he was acting trashy before the phone call.

"I'm just gonna take my shit and leave. It's too early for your crap."

"Adios, twat."

Louis doesn't respond, only grabs his phone and takes his car keys out his pocket, then leaves Harry's house without a further word.

He would have given a response if he knew Harry would spend the next two days avoiding him.

Louis wakes up in the morning, late to set both days in a row. He hasn't got a _I think you're trash_ or _you make me want to gag and not in that way_ from Harry, or any message insulting that wakes him up on time. He hasn't gotten any message at all.

He shows up on set quite relieved Harry isn't nagging him to death, and he gets through the day in humble peace, spending his time off camera entertaining Gigi and Taylor with his rather great, saucy jokes.

On the third day, Louis arrives at set on time, actually setting an alarm. He's due to act with Harry at twelve, and when the time comes around, they get through their non-sexual scene like a piece of cake. But as soon as " _cut!_ " is yelled, Harry is passing him by and resuming his tasks for the day. They don't speak.

When three days turn into six, Louis grows a little bored of the way Harry is acting. He doesn't know what has crawled up his ass, but Louis prefers it when he's insulting him rather than not acknowledging him.

Then six days turn into sixteen days, and Louis expects Harry to come running to him like he did when Louis disappeared for half a month. He doesn't.

They have a number of sex scenes to get through, but Louis is the only one throwing about profanities and trying to avoid the scenes for as long as he can. Harry, like a complete professional - to the point Louis actually grows jealous and feels ridiculous - acts through the scenes, gripping Louis in all the right places. He mouths at his neck, clutches at his thighs, gropes at his ass, attacks his jawline and neck and overall _dominates_ him.

It's incredible acting, really, but the twist in Louis' stomach and the red of his cheeks and the overall way he _feels_ is not acting. And it's dangerous.

Then it turns into a _full blown_ month.

The cast and crew end season five with a blast, and host the end-of-season celebration at Gigi's luxurious penthouse. Louis shows up well intent on getting wasted, his body already inching ever so closer to a miscarriage with the way he throws up every other day.

He dances with Nick rather saucily, and they win everybody's attention. They get cheered on, and put on personal Snap stories. Luke has the audacity to Instagram a short video of Louis and Nick enjoying themselves together, captioning it _"shipping this, do you?"_ and if Louis wasn't totally drunk, he would have killed Luke in that moment.

They spend the rest of the night drinking, driving people absolutely wild, especially Louis who clings onto everyone because he's _absolutely fucking wasted._

It's only when the world wakes up the next morning with a hangover, a lovely hot August day, to the headline _"Louis Tomlinson and Nick Grimshaw A Thing?!"_ does Louis receive the first nonprofessional comment from Harry over text after a whole month.

And that's when Louis realises Harry was never at the end of season celebration.

**Shitbag: Have you told him yet?**

Louis furrows his eyebrows, confused. He props his arm on his kitchen table and instead of texting back, calls Harry. He picks up on the second ring.

"Have I told who what yet?"

_"You dumb fucker - Nick about his bloody child in you."_

Louis grits his teeth, and stands up from his seat at the table. If Harry were here visibly, he would have backhanded him for having the nerve to question Louis on personal issues after ignoring him for a month.

"Fuck off! You dismiss me for a month and then you think it's okay to question me about Nick like it's any of your business?! You pathetic bastard."

_"I question you about Nick involving your child which damn right involves me 'cause I'm assuming I'm still the only God damn person who knows!"_

Louis falls quiet, stuttering for an answer but Harry continues before he can give one.

_"What happens when you start showing? Huh? What do you do then?"_

The brunette still mulls for an answer, but Harry is starting to break him down and he is starting to feel unable to cope.

_"Nick is gonna damn well dump your ass for being a secretive little bitch."_

Louis sits back down in his seat again, mouth open but wordless. He feels more battered than angry. _Why is Harry acting like this?_

_"What a lovely sight it will be watching Nick toss you to the side like the useless cunt you are."_

He needs to stop.

_"There's the Louis I hate so much, the real asshole. I hope you give up baby Tommo to someone worth having a child."_

Louis should end the call, but he's frozen solid. The only thing that isn't stilled is the salty water that pools in the corners of his eyes.

_"You're gonna be a shit parent. Drinking whilst pregnant."_

Louis bites his knuckles, chokes back a sob.

_"You're gonna fuck up your kid's life and they're going to hate you. All you deserve is hate. You don't deserve shit all but fucking hate. You're a mistake, you're a waste of space, you're a-"_

"Shut up. Shut up! _Shut up!_ Stop it! _Please_ , stop it!"

Louis never cries, ever. He has too much pride to, so as tears start to streak his cheeks and as he attempts to wipe his face clear of them but to no avail, he becomes absolutely shattered.

And all it's taken is three minutes of a phone call that could have been shut down with one single button that Louis can't seem to press.

It would satisfy Harry, him doing that, but at the same time, Louis being in tears offers Harry the same amount of satisfaction. There are no wins for the blue eyed boy, and all the wins in the world for Harry.

It does shock Harry, the sound of Louis breaking down into pieces of pain, but it doesn't stop him from hammering Louis down.

If Harry's mother heard him, she would tell him to not speak so filthily, but she's on the other side of the world, and so are Harry's damns to give.

_"Tell me why should I stop? Why? When I'm revelling in the fact that you're so pathetic and weak you can't handle a quarter of what Nick will spit to you when he finds out."_

Louis' hand falls limp and his phone slips to the table. The room is silent enough in between his sobs for him to make out the words spilling from Harry's mouth next.

_"How about I tell Nick for you?"_

It would sound generous if there wasn't venom laced in every evident tone of Harry's voice, and it would be generous if the child was actually Nick's.

The question pulls Louis out of his weakened state, shoving words in his mouth that had been stolen with Harry's vile ones.

"No. No! You tell him and I will kill you! I will fucking kill you, Styles! I fucking will!"

He hears Harry's sickly mocking cackle from the other side of the line, and he holds his breath in what he won't admit - fear.

_"Ah, you'll probably kill yourself before you do me. Happy drinking!"_

The line goes dead before Louis can respond. It feels like a horror movie, like bad fortune is lurking around the corner.

All his hope depends on this miscarriage now, and he can't help but be alarmed at the fact his body has made it to the two month mark.

Louis goes to sleep that night feeling numb.

➸

The truth is, Louis doesn't know what to do with himself.

The cast have another two months to themselves, off set, away from the twelve hours per day. Zayn and Gigi are abroad in Barbados soaking in the heat. Niall, Liam and Luke are across the world in Australia provoking Tasmanian Devils, and Taylor is out in New York throwing sororiety girl-like parties.

Yet Louis is still here, stone-faced in LA. Even Lottie has travelled out with Louise to London. They're thriving in the makeup and fashion industry, and he's happy for them, really, but he's jelaous that his baby sister can so simply fly out and disappear.

Louis can't. He's watching Harry like a hawk, pinning points down mentally whenever a Harry Styles fan update account posts.

He's being cautious, not crazy. Harry's walking around with a metaphorical bag stuffed with his secret and it's too much of a risk.

Harry doesn't tell Nick from the looks of it, but Louis starts to believe he's waiting for the perfect moment to do so.

Nick visits Louis every other day, takes him out on little dates and grand dates that the smaller boy can't help but adore, but Louis can be snacking away in a Chipotles or standing at the railings of a ferry ride inhaling the sea water in, and all his mind stays consumed with is Harry.

It becomes unhealthy, but Louis has no choice. His back can be turned and the secret can be broadcasted to the world. And the whole massive scandal that Louis has created - hiding who the father of his child really is - can so easily be revealed just from Harry telling Nick, because there aren't the right dots to connect.

Nick will connect his dots but it won't connect with Louis' the way Harry's will if he ever finds out the actual truth.

Because Nick and Louis have never had sex.

All it takes is Harry and a little common sense.

His entire career could be ruined.

So he falls asleep roughly every night and wakes up no differently. He loses minutes and hours of rest and starts to feel sick from paranoia. The only positive thing about his days are that his vomiting and faintness has lessened, but then he further panics because then he's ten weeks along, and he hasn't had a miscarriage yet.

He doesn't want to abort, he doesn't want to be faced with that kind of guilt. On top of that, Harry's sharp words slice at his mind.

_"What happens when you start showing?"_

The answer to that, he doesn't have. If he can't gather the balls to abort, he's screwed. He's screwed and in LA and dating Nick in order to keep Harry believing that Nick is the father to his baby, whilst everyone basks in the summer heat and goes about life without negative fucks to give.

So really, he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Then the Summer Awards roll around, a grand event that everyone has to fly back into LA for. Actors from all around the world prepare to pack into the colossal event hall, walking down the red carpet that extends for what feels like a mile of Louis Vuitton heels and sleek suits.

A good few hundred paparazzi blind every actor and actress who, like the actors they are, take it like professionals and pretend it doesn't bother them.

Louis and Nick are meant to appear with the rest of the cast, but make the snappy decision to make a grand entrance stepping out of a red chrome ferarri. They make their way down the red carpet leaving the paparazzi with dozens of pictures worth platinum of the new celebrity couple.

The blue eyed boy pretends he doesn't smell the scent of Tom Ford's Tabacco cologne lingering down the red carpet. It could be anyone's, but Louis smells the mint too, and knows it's Harry. Harry is not too far up the red carpet with the rest of the crew for a fact.

Louis is sure there's about fifty pictures all taken in the span of the five seconds where he's grimacing at being a handful of people away from Harry.

Nick leans in to speak in Louis' ear.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothing," Louis keeps a million dollar smile on his face as he responds.

Nick is not convinced, but only hums in response as they continue to make their way down the red carpet.

The event runs smoothly, and the cast wins Best Fanbase and Best Crowd Reaction.

Harry's at the tail end of the row the cast occupies, and Louis is sat on the complete opposite end beside Nick. It doesn't make the blue eyed actor childish to put as much distance between the two of them as he can, it makes him reasonable.

Having to be any closer to Harry will provoke a rush of anxiety in Louis. He's not afraid of Harry Styles, no, he's afraid of what he has the capability of doing.

"And the winners of Best Surprise Couple are..."

But Louis is cursed, he thinks, when he hears what he hears next.

_"Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson as Alex and Tyler in **SULK**!"_

He's blessed to be given a Summer Award, but far from blessed having to accept said award with none other than Harry. This is the moment he's been dreading. Yes, he has practically stalked Harry, but despite being in the same country, he has kept the distance between them very large.

Now he has to stand next to him, up on stage.

In front of the whole world.

Louis begins to feel sick at the thought, but doesn't have a chance to attempt throwing up as he is shoved out of his seat by Nick who laughs at him like he's a clown.

The blue eyed actor finds himself treading terribly slow, Harry already on stage, as the crowd continues to clap and their theme song plays.

When he gets on stage up to the microphone stand, he is a substantial amount of steps away from from Harry.

The curly headed man grins, teeth on full show, and doesn't once look at Louis as he grips a large hand on his waist and pulls him firm against him. The force causes Louis' arm to crush up against Harry's side until he moves it forward along with his body.

It gives Harry the perfect opportunity to hold the smaller boy from behind, snugly.

Harry knows Louis is with Nick, but that doesn't stop him from nudging his manhood against Louis, slotted.

Despite the audience being packed with professional actors and this being a formal event, the action receives yells and screams because _two of the world's most famous actors who hate each other are up on stage literally glued together._

Louis would rip himself away, but the last thing he wants to do is piss Harry off with a microphone before him and cameras broadcasting them live worldwide.

So he plays along, puts on a sweet smile, does his _job_ , as Harry begins speaking.

"This is absolutely incredible."

Louis wants roll his eyes, it's the same thing Harry says every time they win an award. He doesn't, though, because he's playing along.

"You guys really ship Tyler and Alex this much?" Harry laughs, "I'd like to admit that I do too."

The crowd responds in agreement, but the smile on Louis' face falters. That's _not_ the same thing Harry says everytime.

Deep down, Louis knows he's talking about them two together, in compromising positions - not acting.

Louis bets Nick is turning in his seat as if he's in a grave, which he metaphorically is. _Jealous Boyfriend_ is not a good headliner, and neither is _Summer Awards Disaster_ , so he can't do anything but stay put.

"We found out at this asshole's welcome back party that we'd be doing some pretty heavy sex scenes. It wasn't easy for Louis here to accept it, but I'm sure he finds it very easy to accept this award, don't you Lou?"

_Lou._

No, he really isn't finding it easy.

"Of course, because this award," Louis grabs the gold trophy out of Harry's extended hand, "has every single one of you incredible fans in it. This has your love and care in it and I would never find it hard to accept that. Thank you so much! Thank you Christopher and the rest of the cast and crew for keeping our family going strong. We love you!"

Louis is ready to sprint, or rather walk like he's trying not to sprint but is, off the stage. However, Harry grips his wrist, pulling him back.

"You didn't tell them." It goes straight into the microphone and to everyone although it's directed to Louis.

"Tell them what?" Louis' stomach stirs.

"That you're pregnant with Nick's baby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on my insta: @harrymarriedin
> 
> GUYS, I LOVE BABIES.


	6. You've Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY.
> 
> THE RESPONSE FOR THE LAST CHAPTER WAS INSANE AF.
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE WONDERFUL COMMENTS, IT HAS MADE MY WEEK.
> 
> SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO VIOLET WHO SENT ME SOME OF THE NICEST PARAGRAPHS ABOUT MY WORKS ON INSTAGRAM AND ASKED TO TRANSLATE, THANK YOU SO MUCH DARLING. xxx
> 
> ANOTHER SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO JAZ, THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME OUT OF YOUR DAY TO CONNECT WITH ME ON INSTAGRAM AND SAY SUCH SWEET STUFF <3 SO MUCH LOVE
> 
> AND ANOTHER SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO REGINA WHO ALSO CONNECTED WITH ME, I APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH <3
> 
> It wasn't promised but I hoped to update on Sunday. It's still Sunday for me right now, I'm sorry if it's the next day for some of you guys who are reading.
> 
> I am working for the summer before I start college so I only have so much time to write, edit and post. I do try my best :) 
> 
> I appreciate all of you so much and I can't wait for the rest of this story. It's going to be great XD
> 
> I love you all! <3 Enjoy!!!

Harry Styles is one of the world's hottest actors with offers that, if taken, shove millions of quids into his bank account. Yet he sticks with his cast of five years and plans to do another five.

Louis Tomlinson is just as talked about as Harry, receives just as many offers as Harry, yet he sticks with his cast of five years and _planned_ to do another five.

Not anymore.

When spending long periods of time with people, bad things happen. The fact is, Louis should have ran for the hills the minute Harry caught sight of his ultrasound image. He should have packed a suitcase without any of his fucks to give and he should have left.

Because with the dead silence in the awards hall after the clink of gold smacking the floor, and the thousand pairs of eyes that stare at him dauntingly, he's never felt so revealed and judged.

He shifts his eyes to the left, scans the entire grand hall, and then locks eyes with Nick. There's an unreadable expression on his face. It sends shivers throughout Louis' body. He rips his eyes away because he can feel his body burning at a degrees that isn't healthy.

Harry's quiet beside him, an innocent expression on his face, but his eyes glimmer with humour, and a layer of absolute hate.

Louis slaps him. _Hard_.

Harry sees it coming but doesn't do anything about it. He knows he deserves it. He takes it and doesn't physically or verbally respond.

The connection is sickly sharp and echoes throughout the collosal hall through the sound system. It makes Harry's neck crack out the knot he had from being hunched over the microphone.

Harry's pale complextion turns into a painful pink, cheek in the process of being lined with a handprint. The green eyed man had been biting his lip, and now there's a trickle of blood seeping out the corner of his mouth, teeth puncturing into his skin.

The silence of the audience is broken with the gasps heard, and as Louis glances over, on the cusp of crying out and face drained of colour, he sees Nick getting out of his seat.

It would be reasonable for Nick to leave the Summer Awards ceromony, to get out of there and not add to the scene, but instead, he walks effervescently towards the stage, lips wide apart in an A plus, feigned smile.

He doesn't look angry one bit, but Louis can only imagine the degrees of the fumes inside him. Nick is just acting for the cameras. _Accepting Boyfriend_ is a good headliner.

Nick steps up the final steps onto the stage and merely looks at Harry with his eyes locked on the blue eyed boy. Louis is slightly relieved at the fingers intertwining with his, but knows Nick has nothing good to say to him when they leave the Summer Awards.

Harry takes it as his cue to pick up the fallen trophy and finally speak, eyeing the celebrity couple making their way off stage. He's beaming knowing he's just kicked Louis through metaphorical doors of hell.

"Thank you so much, this means the world! All the love!"

The curly headed man makes his way off the stage smugly, supported with their show's theme song and the announcement of the next award. He sees Nick trying to sit Louis down and cool him off, but the blue eyed boy only ends up shoving him away by the chest and scurrying off with tears about to fall.

The buried part of Harry contemplates on following after him to comfort Louis despite being the reason for him leaving. But there's a reason why that part of him is buried: so it can't do anything.

The part of Harry who the man has merged into over the past month, considers following after Louis in order to watch him cry and thrive off his dampened aura.

He likes the second idea better, so he does exactly that.

He grips onto his phone and paces up the aisle nearest to him. Then he exits the hall, and makes a sharp left. Louis has come out on the opposite aisle, and Harry catches a glimpse of his curvy figure as he turns a corner.

"Oi!"

The smaller boy halts in his tracks, stepping back and looking down the hallway to be met with Harry's insincere smirk, a handful of steps away from him.

Louis rubs at his face, utterly shattered - _broken_. He knew Harry would spill his secret and on purpose too. He knew it would happen, but instead of spending his time preparing for that awful outcome, he has spent it uselessly pinpointing Harry's every location.

The matter of truth is, Harry could be halfway across the world or up Louis' ass (no pun intended) and all it would take for Harry to out him is the three seconds it would take Louis to clamp a hand over his mouth.

Louis is capable of fucking with Harry the way the curly headed man has just done with him. However, prodding at Harry's buttons could lead to Harry finding out the truth about Louis' baby, that he's the _father_ , just as easily as him spilling Louis' secret to the world could.

So once again, there are all the wins in the world for Harry, and none for Louis.

"You fucking got nerve coming after me, Styles. You got fucking nerve."

Louis should go, really. All the bones in his body have and he feels like jelly. He wipes his face with the back of his hand furiously, hiccuping. He tries to compose himself, and tries to regain some of his dignity.

The emerald eyed man intertwines both his hands behind his back, and tilts his head like a confused child.

"Why are you crying?"

Then he lets out a chuckle, one that makes Louis feel like he's getting clamped by mouse traps. Agony and utmost fury bite at him.

"You strip me of the right to tell my own secret to the world and then you ask me why am I crying?" Louis laughs himself, but it's a pained laugh laced with sarcasm.

"You have no heart, Styles."

_No heart._

Something about that statement twists Harry's guts uncomfortably, and he feels a nudge at his actual heart.

"Now if I didn't have a heart, would I have come after you, princess?"

Louis gulps at the nickname. It's haunting, because _princess_ is what Harry called Louis the day they had sex.

The day they had sex, Harry forgot a condom, got Louis pregnant, and Louis became a whore to lies. He's fucked. Screwed. _Done_. It's only been two months, but all hell has broke loose.

"If you had a heart you'd go to hell and pay for what you just did."

"If I didn't have a fucking heart, would I be here bickering back and forth with you about having one?"

The taller man takes an intimidating step towards Louis, then another, until their faces are inches away. Louis looks up, gulps, and tries to step away, but Harry is not happy with the action and backs Louis up against the wall. Harry successfully has both his hands beside Louis' head, and a knee ever so close to the smaller boy's crotch.

Louis can't hear the voice in his head telling him to run anymore.

"You know damn well I have a heart, 'cause I care about Nick enough to let him know he has a kid on the way." He brings his lips closer to whisper in Louis' ear, "and I care enough about that kid to make sure they have at least one good parent raising them."

Louis shivers, Harry's warm breath hitting his ear and neck. He blinks and stares at the opposite wall over Harry's shoulder, then lets out an uncomfortable cough.

"Who said I was keeping it?" He repeats himself from a month ago.

Harry laughs, "oh, you're gonna keep that baby now. You get an abortion and the world will think you're a murderer - sick in the head - for killing someone you were meant to love."

A finger comes up to poke Louis on the nose lightly. Louis squirms away from the touch - Harry's skin is cold, just like who he is being right now.

"And c'mon, princess... It was the least I could do for Nick who has had to put up with you, just because I got bored."

Harry tilts his head, lips brushing Louis' jawline.

Louis starts to hear the voice in his head again. _Run. Run for the hills._

The pair of lips begin to press against Louis' skin. Then they trail along his jaw until they're kissing the dip of Louis' lips in the corner.

His vision is blurred when Harry looks into his eyes, too close to focus. Then Harry moves away the slightest, and Louis is able to see the sea pattern of green and flecks of gold streaked with the slightest of blue in fine HD.

He sees that Harry wants to ravish him on the spot, and Louis begins to feel sick for feeling appealed to the idea of Harry doing it _right here, right now._

That's all he ever seems to feel lately. Sick. He feels even more sick with anxiety when Harry opens his mouth to speak again.

"The only time I'm not bored of you is when you look pathetic and weak, like you do now - it entertains me. I like that look on you..."

Harry scans the boy from head to toe with a look Louis deciphers as hunger. He trails his eyes over Louis' thighs, then his waist which is nicely defined by the well fitting blazer he wears. Louis' bare neck follows, then his pink lips and button nose until Harry's eyes are locked with the blue ones before him again.

"I bet if I kissed you right now, you'd wrap your arms around my neck, just like you did before. Just to hold yourself up, because I make you weak in the knees..."

Louis starts to hate himself, which is something he didn't know he was capable of doing. He _wants_ Harry to kiss him, he _wants_ Harry to hold him up when he's the one who has just messed up Louis' life, when he's the reason the world is talking about him in this very moment, no doubt.

But then Nick is in the hallway, and Louis rips himself away from Harry like the man is about to transfer killing volts into his bones.

Harry's face, without a twitch after, forms into stone. He looks at Nick with blank eyes, and an awkward silence emerges between the three of them.

Nick stares - with an undreadable expression for the second time - at Harry. Then he turns to face Louis with the utmost disgust and disapproval.

"You're something else, Louis," Nick chuckles sadly. "You're gonna come with me to mine now, and you're going to get anything that's yours and then I don't want to see you until season six, God willing you live through what comes next."

"What? Nick, no!" Louis is shocked into giving a response.

Nick only gives him a torn smile. He's angry to the pit of his stomach, but he's more sliced up in the heart to spit foul words at him yet.

Harry does nothing but stand stoically. The conversation is only two way, and Harry doesn't fit in at all. Nick responds.

"Oh, sorry. I don't think you got the gist of that statement. Louis," he scoffs sarcastically, "I don't want anything to do with you other than work."

_Ouch_. Louis' voice breaks as he speaks.

"What?"

Now that he's in front of two people, despite them being his co-stars, the thought of crying is repulsive. So he inhales shakily, and bites on his lip at the unwinding of being well held together in his chest.

Nick fixes his lips into a straight and takes a step backwards as Louis tries to reach for his arm.

"I don't want your lies in my house."

Harry perks up at the sentence, and Louis can see gears starting to turn in his head.

"Excuse me?" Louis chokes out through the lump in his throat even though he knows exactly what Nick is referencing to.

"You know damn well that kid is not mine, we've never even had sex- Harry, fuck off, please!"

Louis sees thoughts rush through Harry's mind and change the look in his eyes the slightest, but then it's gone. It's like whatever he was thinking about he disposed of somewhere in the inaccessible part of his mind. He listens to Nick, and leaves the two alone.

The blue eyed boy didn't think he could find comfort in Harry being beside him in a moment of anguish, but now that he's gone, Louis wishes he was here to take his fall and hopefully not push him back. He isn't though, he's gone.

Louis blinks. He doesn't know what to say.

"Who's child is it? Huh? Who fucking knocked you up, Louis?"

The smaller brunette inhales, looks down at his fingers and begins to twiddle with them.

"Who put their fucking dick in you?! Who the fuck did that without a condom?!"

Louis doesn't plan on telling Nick the truth, so he does what he's been doing best. He lies.

"A one night stand, Nick. I don't remember his name..."

Nick begins to hysterically laugh, "you could at least lie and tell me a name to make me feel better. Or is _one night stand_ a lie too?" The disbelief on Nick's face is incredible, and Louis feels like a stupid little child being scolded by a parent.

"Please, Nick, it happened before we got together-"

"I don't give a fuck when it happened! I give a fuck about you using me as a fucking scapegoat!" Nick seethes. He takes a mere second to settle down. It has little effect.

"Why, Louis? Why have you gone and used my name to cover your own bloody mistake?"

Louis can't do anything but look down and feel the tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

"Was it part of your plan to hide the truth from the world, because a _one night stand baby_ will ruin your reputation?"

"This isn't about my fucking reputation!" Louis steps forward and raises a hand that Nick eyes and laughs at.

"What? You gonna hit me, like you do to Harry when he says things you don't like? _Go on_."

But Louis doesn't, because he can't. He still needs Nick to cover up the truth before the rest of the world finds out. So he drops his hands.

He forfeits.

"I'm sorry Nick," he cries, and the tears are half crocodile and half real. If he can't get Nick back, his plan becomes more twisted than ever. "I'm so sorry," he goes to hug him, but Nick's arms never come up. He just stands like a statue. He never moves.

"Please, we can work this out..."

Nick smiles sadly, and unattatches Louis from him. "No, we can't, 'cause Louis? I know this relationship is a lie too."

Louis pulls away and looks up through glassy eyes. This is it.

"It's a shame, really, because I've been meaning to tell you, I'm in deep for you. I'm in over my head..." This is when Nick starts to cry, and it all becomes too much for Louis. "And I'm sorry but," he chokes out.

"I hate you."

The blue eyed actor is used to hate, but from Nick, it's different. He actually _cares_ that Nick hates him. It's probably because Nick is what determines how easy the next stage in his life will be.

Louis is about to go to hell, he knows.

"I hate you for using me, and I hope you rot in hell for it."

As said, he knows.

"I'll mail your stuff. Goodbye Louis."

➸

Louis leaves the Summer Awards numb all over. He's taken home by Paul who doesn't question the tear streaks on his face.

He shouldn't be crying, he's not the one heartbroken. He just doesn't know what to do next. There's a good chance that Harry has figured it out.

But there's a good chance he hasn't.

It's too overwhelming to contemplate on, so as soon as Louis gets into his apartment complex, he showers away his dread with steamed water that scorches his back.

He pulls the curtains shut to his living room, boils the kettle in the kitchen and brews a cup of tea, turns the television on and changes the channel to one showing reruns of Jerry Springer, and then huddles up in the corner of his couch under a blanket.

The noises on the T.V. become faded murmurs that have no relevance to the thoughts in his head. His eyes scan his phone screen, scan the comments already being made about him, the newspaper articles being published even though it's only been an hour and a half.

He likes being all over the news, but only when it's with Harry. He gets to have a good laugh at it, feel proud and all. Now that it's just him on his own...

It's not okay.

➸

"Harry, what do you want?"

It's just about gone past midnight, and the next day has started to tick on. Harry's whole body slouches against the wall, limp and wrecked. He's consumed with alcohol over the limit, because if he wasn't, he would never visit Taylor outside of work hours.

"Can I...come- ugh...in...? Please?"

Taylor looks at her co-star with raised eyebrows, but nevertheless steps aside to let him in. With terrible sight, he stumbles over to her couch and flops himself onto it.

His cheek is stained with something dark like mud, however, there isn't any wet mud nearby. LA is parched with the boiling weather that's been around since June.

"What's on your face?" The blonde yawns shortly after as she turns the light knob to increase the intensity of brightness in her living room.

"The plants downstairs-" he laughs drunkenly. His head lolls back and his eyes close as he gives a lopsided smile in no direction particularly. "They were so pretty...just- just been watered... I wanted to play with them... They don't like me..."

Taylor folds her arms as she grows a little irritated. She doesn't mind taking care of her hammered co-star, but when rubbish is coming out of his mouth, she does mind.

She walks over to Harry behind the couch, then she inspects his face up close.

"That's brown lipstick."

"Kendall...Jenner," he hums, eyes still closed. He looks like a mess, and there's a red wine stain on his floral shirt. "She hosted some party... We snogged."

Taylor rolls her eyes then moves around the couch to take a seat by him.

"Were their cameras on?"

"I saw a camera guy... I dunno."

"Your drunk ass is going to be all over the TV."

It's something that will very much entertain the world, as long as Harry hasn't gotten naked or done anything too embarrassing. Given his state though, it wouldn't be a wild guess to say he's made a fool of himself.

There's vomit on his freaking hair.

Harry opens his mouth to respond, but then he's closing it. He blinks his eyes open, and the look in them makes Taylor scooch the littlest bit away from him.

The look on his face looks almost possessed, like his soul has left his body and he's just a skeleton that's left with skin that doesn't move.

He starts to reach out to her, placing his hands on her sides.

"I want to kiss you."

Taylor would be okay with it if he wasn't drunk. He was always quite appealing to her, but not in this state. Despite the revolted look on her face, Harry inches closer to her until his lips are brushing her cupid's bow, but then he's getting whacked against the jaw as Taylor slips away and stands up.

"Harry, what the fuck?!"

The knock to his face has sobered him up the littlest, enough to make him realise he's just offended Taylor thinking that she wouldn't mind his wasted state.

He groans, falling back against the couch again as he clutches his jaw.

"Ow!" He swears under his breath, "do you fucking mind?!"

"Get the hell out of my apartment!" She kicks him in the shin to urge him to get up and leave. He groans out in pain again, and hauls himself up with anger in his eyes.

"You do that fucking again-"

Taylor hits him plain in the stomach with a strong punch. It winds him enough to allow her to shove his weight towards her front door.

"You think I'm going to add to the list of girls you've planted one on tonight?! Think again, asshole."

It's only when he's out of the door and she's about to shut it that he starts crying. It's bellowed out, as if he's in pain, which physically he is. Taylor stops her movement and sticks her head out to see Harry on the floor against the wall, knees at his chin and tear after tear streaking his cheeks.

His body vibrates, and his chest stills after every cry that emits from his body as if he can't get himself to breath. Then when he does, the sob that comes out sounds like a wail of agony, one that's loud enough to wake up the other three people on Taylor's apartment floor.

Taylor stands awkwardly. She doesn't do tears and she definitely doesn't know how to comfort the one and only Harry Styles crying at her door.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

It's raw the way it sounds, but she doesn't know what else to say. She doesn't think he's capable of answering given that his body is being wrecked with sobs, and he isn't as the words come out slurred. However, she hears the following words loud and clearly.

_"I'm in love with him."_

Taylor steps out from behind her door, looks worriedly towards her neighbours' apartments in hopes that they haven't been woken up, then speaks quietly to Harry.

"Shush. Keep your voice down, people are sleeping. In love with who?"

She strokes his hair back despite the vomit in it. It's only for comfort, because her and Harry are not close at all. She may ask him to dance every now and again, but she knows he doesn't like her.

She couldn't really care.

"I can't stop-" he hiccups, cries out, "I-I can't s-stop it!"

The blonde sits on her knees in front of him, and a bit of her feels sorry at whoever it is that's causing him to cry so much.

"Can't stop what?"

Harry sobs, throws his head back in frustration, " _falling_."

"For who, Harry? Who the fuck are you talking about?"

"He-lp me, p-please..."

He finally looks at Taylor with broken green eyes, and as the blonde filters through all the possible men Harry can be in love with, she's clueless.

It's only when Harry says what he says next does she realise who he's talking about.

"He's going to _ruin_ me. He hates me."

_It's Louis._

The most Taylor can do in that moment is take him inside, drown him in water to flush the alcohol out of his system and toss a blanket over him on the couch.

He falls asleep, eyes puffed up and hair matted down. He needs a shower, but that has to wait.

Taylor doesn't fall asleep until three in the morning, because there's already pictures online of Harry at Kendall's party, wasted.

The last thing that crosses her mind is how he found himself here.

➸

When Louis wakes up the next day, it's to the ringing of the boring alarm sound he changed to a month ago.

He misses the _I don't like sluts like you'_ s and the _you're made of dog shit_ 's he would wake up to. He misses how it used to be. It's only been two months, but everything has changed.

Even as he's sipping on his morning tea and snacking on Biscoff biscuits before he attends his doctors appointment, all he thinks about is how much he misses it.

He misses when things weren't serious. How Louis could insult the living grits out of Harry without fearing that his mouth would lose control and say, _"you're the father,"_ to him.

He misses raising Christopher's blood level and giving him a headache for the day, all because he thought it was funny to dodge scenes and bicker with Harry instead.

He misses Zayn, Niall, Liam and Luke sniggering behind the cameras every time Harry would murder a line and Louis would pick on him for it. He misses Gigi and Taylor betting actual diamond rings on who out of Harry and Louis would get Christopher to cry first.

Most of all, he misses the old Harry. Not the Harry who only yesterday was so mean to him, so _cruel_ , but the Harry that would call him princess without darkness being laced in his voice.

_Princess_ just because it was funny.

_Princess_ just because it pissed Louis off.

The worst thing is, Louis doesn't know what on Earth he has done to change the way Harry is with him.

All he knows is it's been two months. Nothing's the same.

So he sets his empty teacup in the sink, grabs his keys and phone, and leaves his apartment.

He waves at Juliette, who sits behind her desk in the lobby. She only gives him a smile tinged with sorrow. She's probably heard about yesterday, and feels sorry that the world had to find out that way.

Then he makes his way to his car, sticks the keys in place and starts the engine. The windows are one way, so no one can see in, but that doesn't mean the paparazzi doesn't know it's him.

They tail him as discreetly as they can. He loses them after circling three times.

When he arrives at the hospital and signs in for his appointment with Dr. Mills, he has to pretend that every single pair of eyes around are not on him. They know why he's here just as much as he does.

Louis is relieved when his name is called and Dr. Mills shakes his hand as he walks in.

"Hey..." Dr. Mills trails off. "How have you been?" It almost insulting to ask, because there's no doubt the doctor has heard about yesterday too.

Louis doesn't answer straight away, only takes a seat on the bed covered in a long sheet of hospital paper.

"I'm okay."

Dr. Mills doesn't buy it, but doesn't question it either. He pulls out a pen and runs through questions with Louis. Even though they're all formal questions requiring answers to check up on the person inside of Louis, the blue eyed boy hopes the doctor will ask how he's doing again, just so this time he can answer without lying.

He's growing tired of lies.

Dr. Mills doesn't ask how he's doing again though. He draws some blood from Louis, sends the tube off to get tested, then politely asks if Louis could lay back.

It's a new feeling, having the cold ultrasound gel on his stomach. It cools his skin down from the hot sun that streams through the window.

Louis hears it when Dr. Mills does, the faint sound of a heartbeat along with Louis' own. His head snaps up to the ultrasound screen to see the shape of a peanut.

Louis doesn't know how to feel.

The baby inside of him has always been one he hasn't wanted. He put his heart with the idea of having a miscarriage over giving birth. He just isn't used to feeling anything _real_ with his kid.

So when he hears their heartbeats together, his mind decides is alright to let out a tear or two. It doesn't mean he's bailed on his promise of getting an abortion if he doesn't miscarriage. It just means it will be a whole load harder for him to get through with it.

Because despite Harry's words, he still has to get rid of his baby, before it's born with little curls and Harry's lips and the truth spills out if it hasn't already.

"The heartbeat is too weak."

Louis' breath halts.

"Have you still been throwing up?"

The look in Dr. Mills eyes is panicked and concerned, but his face remains straight. Louis almost forgets to answer in shock.

"Not really..."

Dr. Mills is trying to make sense of the statement that has come out of his mouth. He moves the ultrasound wand hoping it's had a moment of faultiness, but the heartbeat remains weak.

"If your body was going to miscarriage, it would have done it already - the rate that it was going at."

Hearing that shatters Louis. It means he has to go through with an abortion and feel guilty. He has no other choice. He really doesn't...

"Louis, have you done anything that could harm your baby's growth?"

The blue eyed boy bites his lips and looks away shamefully. "Drinking..." he mumbles out.

"You've been drinking?!"

The yelled words at him is all it takes to spark an anger in Louis. He's too sensitive after yesterday to be yelled at or put down. He really can't be bothered with it.

"Tons of mothers don't know they are pregnant until _months_ in and indulge in liquor and their babies turn out just fine!" He snaps back. He really shouldn't snap, but he can't stop himself from doing so.

"Your body, Louis, doesn't cope the same. The sensitivity of your body and its functions with your baby are a rock in space compared to a regular woman's. Jesus. How heavily have you been drinking?" Dr. Mills faces him with complete disappointment. Louis is tired of feeling like a kid being scolded.

"Somewhere in the middle," Louis answers, looking away.

"Louis, at this stage in the pregnancy, that amount of drink can- _will_ cause permenant damage. I'm talking poor growth, facial abnormalities, learning and behavioural problems, the entire FAS."

"FAS?"

"God dammit- Foetal Alcohol Syndrome!"

"How was I supposed to know?!" It's a little bit childish to knock the ultrasound wand off his stomach and Dr. Mills' hand away from him, but he's very irritated right now and doesn't want to be touched.

"You know, most expecting parents tend to pick up a book and research how to avoid any harm to their child," it comes out mockingly, and Louis starts to hear Harry in his voice. This is also Harry's doctor, Louis isn't surprised.

"You should start acting like a parent, Louis."

The smaller boy's mouth drops open, and he sits up on the bed, top falling down and getting wet with the gel on his stomach.

"This is your job, you can't speak to me like that."

"No, I can't, but if a life is at risk then I don't care about patient and doctor barriers. You need a massive wake up call."

Louis is so ready to up and leave.

"The only wake up call I'm getting is that an abortion won't make me any more of a shitty person. I don't _plan_ on being a parent, so I don't _have_ to start acting like one!"

Louis doesn't even ask for an ultrasound picture as he storms out of the room, appointment unfinished. He's planning on burning the first picture as soon as he gets home as it is.

His drive home is filled with morbid thoughts, because for the first time in his life, he finally agrees with Harry.

He's trash.

Although, he'll never admit that. So when he gets home and picks up the letters in his flooded mailbox in the lobby, and walks past a sympathetic Juliette again, he acts like nothing ever happened.

But Harry and Louis both turn on the T.V. later that morning to see both of them on the news.

Harry snogging Kendall Jenner and throwing up in front of her, and then later being papped going to Taylor's house. Then the Summer Awards announcement whereby Louis Tomlinson is pregnant with Nick Grimshaw's baby and Harry gets slapped on the face on stage for announcing it.

The only thing that the world doesn't know about that Louis can keep to himself is getting dumped by Nick.

Even though Harry and Louis are nowhere near each other, they're closer than ever bombarding the news.

It's just like old times, sharing headlines, but this time, they don't want it.

Louis turns off his T.V.

Harry cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry but I'm not sorry for this chapter :)
> 
> Connect with me on insta <3 @harrymarriedin


	7. The Same Old Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO.
> 
> I THINK I GOT ALMOST 1000 HITS ON CHAPTER 6.
> 
> Y'ALL CRAZY, AND THE COMMENTS TOO.
> 
> Shoutout to paperaeroplanes for crying in the club xD
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support and all of you who have stuck around to read this chapter <3
> 
> Also, I have decided to edit and post a work that I had started but never finished about 3 years ago. It's being MAJORLY edited and I AM VERY UNSURE ABOUT CONTINUING IT.
> 
> It's called Forfeit, please check it out over here on my ao3 account, and let me know. It would mean the world :') 
> 
> The link is at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Loads of love .xx

"Hey."

It's been a week.

Harry has spent four days drinking tequilas and basking in the sun in the Bahamas, then three days resting with expensive wine and margaritas on Barcelona terraces.

He let his phone die out on his flight to Barcelona, purposely cut the cord of his charger and tossed it in an airport trashcan, and purposely removed himself from reality.

It's only because he can't remember the time of his flight back to LA that he purchases a new charger to boot his phone back up.

Coincidentally, as soon as it turns on, he's receiving a call.

_"You need to get your fucking ass back to LA now."_

Harry is too entranced with the beautiful scenery of Barcelona around him to get angry at the demand from Gigi.

"Why?"

There's a ruffling on the other side of the line, then there's a different voice speaking.

_"For fuck's sake, Harry! This isn't a fucking joke! Get on the next flight to LA and come straight to Gigi's!"_

Harry doesn't even get to piss Zayn off by questioning him what the hell is going on because the call is being cut off. As Harry packs his suitcase and duffle bag, he isn't in any rush because he isn't too psyched or happy about having to fly back to LA, but he was on the next flight back anyway.

Twelve hours of an airplane flight is luxury for Harry. It's twelve hours away from the chaos that's occurring in Gigi's apartment. He has no idea what's happening, but he reckons it's rather serious because it's very rare to be informed by his co-stars on issues that present themselves. He's usually the least trusted.

Harry doesn't reach Gigi's penthouse apartment until six in the evening, LA time.

Zayn is sat on Gigi's bar counter, and Gigi is sat at her dining table with a person Harry doesn't recognise.

As soon as his presence is detected, Zayn looks over at him, lips in a straight line. Gigi gives him a smile that greets him with _hey_ but is tinged with complete disapproval.

There are several seconds of awkward silence that pass by, Harry with his emerald eyes locked on the unknown person who stares right back at him, right into him like she's trying to inflict pain on him, like he's trying to stab him with her pupils.

"Who is this?"

Gigi gives Harry a look that just downright states that she's not surprised he doesn't know, or rather doesn't remember. She gives a fake smile that looks almost painful to give.

"Darcy."

"What does this have to do with me?"

Harry's getting the littlest bit irritated. He could have swapped his flight back to LA for one to Puerto Rico instead of coming back here. When he was told this was serious, he thought it was serious.

"One of your one night stands," Zayn fills in and Harry just about remembers her, the honeycomb coloured eyes, the bleached blonde hair and the same screwed up, bitchy face.

This is when Darcy finally speaks for the first time. Harry wishes she didn't.

"I'm pregnant."

She stands, and that's when he sees the bump.

"It's yours."

Harry's jaw falls slack, and he stumbles back. Then he coughs out, breath being caught in his throat from shock. He eyes Darcy with utter disbelief in his eyes.

"No. No, you probably shagged a cunt who was careless enough to not use a condom," he lets out an airy laugh.

Zayn snorts, "when we get it tested and if it's yours, you've just insulted yourself, mate."

"Get it tested, my ass!" This is when Harry starts to get exasperated by what he's hearing. "It's not mine!"

Zayn is evidently irritated and looks like he doesn't want to be a part of this moment in Harry's life. It's not offensive, he loves Harry dearly, but not the way he's responding.

Darcy gives Harry one of the dirtiest looks he has ever received in his life. He would give one right back, but he's too occupied with being aghast and nettled.

"We had sex at Taylor's bachelor and bachelorette celebration four months ago, remember? The one that was so irrelevant and people only went to for good quality alcohol? No, wait, you wouldn't remember it. You were pissed off your fucking ass."

Harry is pissed off. She has a fair point, but he knows himself. He would never be so careless to not use a condom - drunk or sober.

"You were probably pissed too! Sorry, love."

"I don't drink, _honey_ ," she derides him with a pet name just like he's done to her. "I'm alcohol intolerant."

Harry's mouth opens to respond, then it closes. Seconds too much pass before he's able to conjure up something to say back to her.

"I'm not part of this bullshit," are all the words that he manages to form.

Gigi whispers something to Zayn, and then leads Darcy out of the room to remove her from Harry's fury. Zayn looks at Harry with an exhausted expression on his face.

"You need to grow up."

"Excuse m-"

"No, shut up for a minute and listen," Zayn orders him. Harry only listens for the moment because it's his best mate.

"There is a chance in hell that kid is yours."

Harry cringes, "chance my a-"

"Shut up!"

The green eyed man sighs and takes a seat at the dining table. He doesn't look at Zayn but instead studies the clean glass of the table and the white roses that are in a vase in the centre.

"If that possibility becomes a reality, you need to learn to stop arguing with people and fucking accept shit that's come from the messes you've made."

Harry doesn't speak.

"That ain't Louis you're talking to, mate. There's a fine chance that's the mother to a child that's yours. _Grow up_."

Harry doesn't know what to do apart from hang his head low in a little bit of shame. There's a feeling in his gut that's telling him that Darcy's confession may just be true. He wants to go straight back to Barcelona for another three days and act as if none of this has just happened.

But it has.

"Now get out."

And Harry goes to do exactly that, because he doesn't want to be under the same roof as the problem that has just presented itself.

"Hang on, mate."

Harry stops at Gigi's front door and turns around to face Zayn. He stares at him completely drained of colour. He looks like he's about to throw up.

"You need a hug."

It feels good, having his best friend wrap his arms around him and giving him comfort in a time that has left him feeling like the bones in his body have ran away from him.

"Gi and I will update you. Take care."

It isn't enough to get rid of the bitter feeling in his chest, but it's enough to get him into the elevator, down to the ground floor and out of the building.

Harry gets into his car, mutes the radio and gulps. He can't process anything, which leads to him feeling the sudden urge to talk to Louis.

He wants to see Louis because the cerulean eyed boy gives him humour - which he's lacking very much of right now. Even the slightest bit of offence and irritation on the boy's face will light up Harry's day.

So he drives the ten minutes to Louis' expensive apartment complex, stopping at a Starbucks on the way to pick up a strawberry lemonade tea.

Harry doesn't even ring the intercom. If he does, Louis will barricade his door with the neighbour's couch and bed. Honestly, he's never rang the intercom. He likes to show up unannounced.

Juliette looks surprised to see him. As an apartment receptionist, there's little she does when she's not picking up calls. She would have had much time to update herself on the news and would have seen Harry dominating it alongside Louis.

She knows they're not on good terms so she's hesitant to let him step any further into the complex, but decides not to meddle in buisness that isn't her's and lets him go.

In the elevator, Harry watches the numbers increase until it comes to a stop at Louis' floor. He slurps down his drink through his straw as he begins to knock on the designated door.

It's about fifteen seconds before Louis' opening the door, panting as if he's been bang smack in the middle of doing something and has had to stumble and trip his way over to his door in a haste.

The second the blue eyed boy processes who the figure stood waiting is, he slams the door right back shut, then Harry's hearing his voice from the other side of the door.

"Tell Juliette I said to ban you from this building!"

Harry deadpans the door and leans against the frame. "Open the door."

The green eyed man knows Louis is still near his door. He can hear the patter of his feet on the wooden floor as he paces, obviously aching to murder Harry with a round of profanities.

"Fuck off! You interrupted my wanking for this!"

Harry's eyebrows raise at the information, and he starts to slyly grin.

"Didn't look like you had a hard on in the split second I just saw your stupid self."

He hears Louis laugh freely, "that's 'cause I saw your ugly face."

Harry hums, sips at his drink, and goes to reply, but the door is opening again.

"Leave this fucking floor before I call building management and get security to send your ass to the police for trespassing, you sodding son of a bitch. I have important matters to attend to and-"

The curly headed man takes the opportunity during Louis' mini rant to push past him and into his apartment, tossing his car keys and phone on the nearest surface. "That's low, for you."

"Excuse me!" Louis remembers clearly enough how he said the same thing to Harry over a month ago. "You can't just _barge_ into my apartment like that! What the fuck?!"

Harry, slipping off his boots, turns to face Louis and hydrates himself with another sip from his almost empty Starbucks drink.

"I need someone to vent to and you seem perfect for humorous responses."

Louis stands, arms folded and mouth agape. "I'm sorry, but you do not have any right to fucking _use_ me as a release after what you've done!"

Harry blinks, "what'd I do?" He knows exactly what he's done, it's only a week later. Everything is still fresh and an open wound.

Louis scoffs, "get out."

Louis receives a grunt of disapproval from Harry who dismisses his demand and makes his way to his kitchen. He opens cabinets, searching for a snack.

"For fuck's sake! I said get out!"

"And I said I need to vent. You should be elated to hear about my problems because it's an open opportunity for you to insult me." Harry offers him in attempt to not get kicked out. "Or have you gone soft?"

"Soft?" Louis chuckles mockingly, masking his complete anger, "just my dick from seeing you."

Harry looks up at Louis and locks his eyes firmly on his.

That's the second mistake Harry makes today, the first being his departure from Barcelona.

The moment he does, Harry feels a surge of emotions rush through his chest and brain. Goosebumps form on his skin leaving his hairs standing on end. His body is attacked in a shiver.

One whole week away in the Bahamas and Barcelona should have erased any connection his brain had to Louis, but it clearly hasn't. Not when the smirk on Harry's face is falling limp because all that's going through his brain is his drunken confession to Taylor.

He convinces himself he was just blabbering nonsense because he was hammered, but he's never known himself to be a liar whilst drunk.

"Alright, fucking vent then! Get it out your fucking system then get your system out my fucking home!"

And Harry goes to, but as soon as his mouth opens, the words get trapped in his throat.

Harry hates how he starts to finally process the fact that he may just be the father to a child he didn't know he may just have created.

His throat tightens up as he looks away. The fact finally settles into his mind. He drops his hand from the cabinet door, and stares off into the distance.

"Oi."

Louis' voice is just about heard through all of Harry's loud thoughts. Harry snaps back into focus, clearing his throat.

"You're out of food."

Louis' eyes form into slits as he scans Harry suspiciously. He taps his feet on the floor in thought as Harry looks at him again.

"What food have you been eating?" Harry sniggers, "Nick's?"

The green eyed man sees the immense pain of hurt plague Louis' face that leaves him glaring daggers at Harry. His cheeks are porcelain white as he looks down, empty of a comeback.

"I haven't ate."

Then it's as if Louis lets down his guard, something that Harry has never truly seen happen with the actor. It's an asshole move to bring up Nick so soon, especially since Harry's still stood in Louis' house and the boy hasn't actually called building management yet, but he can't help himself. It's just who he is.

Mean.

"You know what, Styles?" Louis steps towards him, arms folded. "It wasn't okay."

Harry stares blankly, arms limp by his sides as he watches the boy lessen the distance between them. He wants to shout at Louis to stop, because each step closer increases the weak feeling in his heart. However, he can't seem to form the words.

Because he shouldn't be _falling_ for the person he _hates_.

The look on Louis' face is incredulous, as if he's sick of Harry's nonsense and has hit rock bottom with it.

"It wasn't okay to take away a basic _human right_ I had. It wasn't okay _disrespect_ me! Hate me or not! It wasn't fucking okay to _ruin_ my relationship with Nick-"

"You were doing a brilliant job of it by lying in the first place! You had it fucked up from the start!" Harry balls up his hands and stands tall above Louis.

"No, you do _not_ get to pin this on me!" Louis shouts, face red. "If it wasn't for the _sick fantasy_ of yours where chaos gives you pleasure, I'd be with Nick right now!"

Harry laughs, pupils haunting black holes to Louis. "Nick would have dumped you one way or anoth-"

"SHUT UP!"

Louis shoves Harry back, the green eyed man's back being struck with the hard corner of the marble counter leaving him yelling out in pain. He's already got a bad back as it is. The first round of tears start to fall from Louis' eyes.

Harry doesn't do tears.

"YOU'RE SELFISH!"

He strikes at Harry's chest with a balled fist. Harry isn't able to move backwards, already up against the counter, so the hit hurts a lot more that it could have.

"YOU'RE HORRIBLE!"

There's another hit to Harry's chest. His ribcage hurts just as much as his falling heart does right now.

"YOU _DESTROY_ PEOPLE!"

Another hit.

"And then you fucking treat yourself to the Bahamas and Barcelona like the _sick bastard_ you are!"

And another. And another.

Harry notices how the hits become weak.

"You _cunt!_ "

Right up until Louis' entire body becomes weak.

"You've fucking ruined me!"

And then he's falling limp into Harry who catches him, arms right around his back.

_"Harry Fucking Styles, you've ruined me!"_

And Louis' wetting his shirt with tears.

_"I hate you!"_

Sobbing.

Harry's never seen Louis so broken before, so _fragile_.

Harry has done that. He has made _Louis Tomlinson_ cry. And although it has been on his bucket list, he's never wanted it to happen like this.

_"I always will."_

With the small boy in his arms. Shaking.

There's a part of Harry that regrets what he says next, because it only proves Louis' point that he's mean, but the hate in Harry's bones for the boy always overshadows the fact that he's falling, terribly - hopelessly - like a stupid child.

"You're pathetic," Harry chuckles.

"Look at you, crying in the arms of the person you hate," he prods further.

Louis continues to shake terribly in his arms, choking over his cries and not getting enough air into his lungs.

That starts to concern Harry, because there is an _actual person_ inside Louis who is sharing the same air and isn't getting enough of it either.

So he stops. Only because he cares about the baby.

Then Louis is telling him something he doesn't one bit expect to hear. He doesn't know how to respond.

"Remember five years ago...when we first met at the Golden Ball? You told me I had a pretty face, and it was a joke to piss off my boyfriend at the time. Then you stole me from him and we danced half the night away," Louis laughs through his tears, because it sounds like something from another life. "And it was fun."

Harry recalls. He gulps, because what was 'fun' for Louis was 'falling in love' for Harry. Then he found out who Louis truly was and buried it six feet under.

"We had sex."

The taller man doesn't cry, not unless he's drunk and feeling alone, but that all changes as his eyes pool over in tears. It was such an intimate moment for Harry, but it was just sex to Louis, not _I'm falling in love with you_ sex.

Then the next day, he was shagging a guy who was not Harry. So Harry forced himself not to feel anything, like he's trying to do now at this exact point in his life.

Harry had purposely lost contact with him.

"Mind blowing, amazing sex. Then we landed our roles...and you'd forgotten who I was." Louis detaches himself from Harry, the growing space mimicking how distant Harry acted back then.

"And I hate you for that 'cause..." Louis wipes at his face and then looks down. He can't bring himself to say what he needs to say bluntly, so he eases his way into it.

"You were only seventeen, I was only nineteen. We were careless, and I hate you because I couldn't tell you..."

Louis inhales and exhales. _It's now or never._

_"You had a kid on the way."_

Harry chokes on his spit, and stumbles back for the second time that day. He can feel his head start to spin and the need to throw up, shock impaling him.

He has to grip onto the same kitchen counter that dug into his back just to hold himself up. He can't deal with what he's been told and is being told.

That he may be a father and that he _was_ one.

It feels like he's being pranked, by that girl Darcy and his own co-stars, but he knows for a fact Zayn, Gigi and definitely not Louis would sit around waiting twelve hours for him just to prank him.

It feels like karma has come to rip his heart out of his chest, sending it through the blade of a hacksaw and the teeth of a deathly snake.

He looks down at Louis' stomach, already pudgy, and all he can think is _there's a baby in there that's not his in the space where his own kid was._

Harry stumbles over to Louis, face pale, and drops to his knees. The blue eyed boy only watches him intently, because now that one of his two massive secrets are out, there is no point in shoving Harry away.

Not when he's cupping at Louis' stomach in attempt to connect with his child that is long gone.

Louis wants to say some things never change to Harry, because the child inside him is also his, but Louis isn't going to give it a life any longer than the months of an abortion, so it's to remain a secret for the rest of his life.

Because nothing will change the fact that he hates Harry Styles and the idea of having a baby with him.

The same Harry Styles who is on his knees, crying, because he _was going to have a baby with him._

"W-What- what h-happened?" Harry looks up to Louis, green eyes glazed over and red, and his face fresh with tears. He looks like the seventeen year old Louis once knew. The same innocence, the same gorgeous curls, the same pink lips. Only this time his dark eyelashes are matted together, and his face is puffy. "T-To it- to m-my kid?"

Louis has never seen Harry cry.

The smaller boy looks away, because he can feel more tears about to fall. He gives a sad laugh, one that Harry identifies as a warning that what Louis is about to say isn't anything good.

"They decided Heaven was a better place than here..."

Harry gives out a heartbreaking sob that causes the tears to fall from Louis' eyes. The curly headed man starts to kiss at Louis' stomach through his t-shirt repeatedly through his cries, right until his head is falling limp against it, and the tables have turned, Louis' shirt getting wet with tears instead.

"No. No, no, no, no!"

It's shattering.

The sound of Harry crumbling to pieces is heartbreaking. The pain of losing a child is unbearable, Louis would know, because although he was only nineteen, he wanted to have his baby.

Not have it torn away from him by bad fortune.

Louis laces his fingers in Harry's hair, massaging his scalp and keeping his head close. He can hear Harry continuing his mantra of denial, but there is nothing the blue eyed boy can say.

So they stay there, in Louis' kitchen, for as long as it takes for Harry to breath properly.

When he's able to, just barely, Louis (despite being small in comparison to the taller man) helps him up and leads him over to Louis' bedroom. It's nearing eight in the evening, and Louis is starving, but for the first time in his life, Harry matters more.

He grabs a wetcloth after laying Harry in his bed and wipes at the curly headed man's face. Harry watches him, nothing but a figure of anguish - silenced.

Louis pulls off his co-star's boots, setting them on the floor. He doesn't say nothing as he switches off the bedside lamp, Harry watching his every move.

He's just about leaving the room when Harry is talking to him with a raspy, lost voice.

"Stay with me."

Louis hesitates. They've just had one of the most personal, intimate moments of their lives, and it's left Louis feeling sensitive. He wants the old days back, where the most important thing that was happening was the mention of one of their parents in an argument.

"Please...?"

The smaller boy sighs, walking back into the room. He looks around in the darkness, grabbing onto a pillow from his bed and tossing it onto the floor. Harry hears the soft thud of his body laying down on the carpet.

Louis hears Harry pat on his bed, and understands what the other man wants.

"No, Harry."

There's the sound of shuffling, Harry turning onto his side to face Louis' direction.

"Please. I want to be close to the person my baby made a home in..."

Louis considers it.

"Just for tonight... Can I just have one night with them? I want to imagine they're still there. Please."

Louis sighs and gets up. He lifts the covers and gets in, covering himself up. There's a large gap between the two of them, one that Harry closes by clutching onto Louis at the waist and pulling him backwards into his front.

They fit, perfectly, but Louis won't admit that.

"I forgot my pillow..."

Harry places his face in the crook of Louis' neck, and then brings a hand up to fix the pillow behind his head, sorting it so that it's also behind Louis' head.

"There."

He then places his hand on the smaller boy's stomach underneath his top, rubbing at his skin over the tiniest bump.

Louis hums. It feels nice. It feels _amazing_. Even though Harry is playing make believe, the truth is, his hand rubs at Louis' stomach where another child that's his makes a home in.

Harry may not know that, but Louis does, and Louis smiles. Just this once. Only for tonight.

"I don't know how you can sleep in jeans."

But Harry has already dozed off.

➸

It reads one in the morning on the bedside clock when Harry awakens to the sound of shuffling beside him. He frowns at the feeling of Louis shifting in his arms.

"What's wrong?" Harry croaks out.

A sigh is heard. "Your arms are tight."

Harry immediately losens his grip and apologises, genuinely apologises, and makes sure that Louis is okay.

It makes Louis feel weird, a good weird, and instead of dismissing the feeling, he accepts it. Just for the night.

"Just wanted to keep my baby inside you close to me."

"Harry," Louis shifts again, and it starts to irritate Harry the littlest. He just wants to hold the smaller boy close. It's okay though, because Louis is only moving to face him, not to put space between them.

"Your kid died."

Louis guesses he can't get any more insensitive with the way he says it, but it's the middle of the night and he's not really thinking about what he's saying. The blue eyed boy expects Harry to cry because it's a fresh cut, but Harry doesn't.

He's still playing make believe.

"No. No, they're in you right now," Harry rubs at Louis' stomach to support his point.

"Harry, it happened five years ago."

"Shh. Let me pretend the baby in you right now is mine. Just for tonight."

 _If only Harry knew the truth_.

"Let me pretend to say goodbye."

Even though Harry starts to sound like a mental nut job, Louis lets him, because he guesses playing make believe is Harry's way of coping with the grievous news.

They fall asleep again.

➸

The second time Harry is woken up, it is five in the morning and it's to the sound of commotion in the apartment. His arms are empty and so is the space next to him in bed. The August sun is already rising.

He looks around the room, eyes blinded by the dark. There's a little bit of light streaming into the room from underneath the door, but it only makes the carpet floor visible.

Harry can choose to go back to sleep but instead gets out of the bed, rubbing at his eyes, and leaves the room.

The sound is coming from the living room. The closer Harry gets is the louder the sound of arguing gets. Harry only hears Louis' voice, so he reckons the boy is on the phone.

"I don't care what you have to say! You don't get to slag me off when you stepped out of my life _twenty fucking years ago!_ "

Harry reaches the living room, and stands by the door. He doesn't intervene, because Louis is riled up and angry. He starts to worry about the baby though, because stress isn't good. So he ends up watching Louis with a worried look on his face.

"You're not my dad! You've never been!"

Louis has never mentioned his dad to Harry throughout the time period they've known each other. Not to boast about him and definitely not to say a simple _"going for lunch with my dad, see you around, asshole."_ Harry finally understands it's because Louis has never really had a dad.

"Good for you! I don't care! If I want to sleep around with guys and get myself pregnant I will!"

Harry gets the feeling Louis doesn't truly mean that, and it's just said in attempt to shut his dad down.

"You only care 'cause the entire world knows and you're looking for details to get money out of sharing them! Fuck you! Fuck yourself! Fucking do one!"

Louis has gone red in the face, and Harry sort of wants him to end the phone call and calm down, so Harry is relieved when Louis does without so much of a goodbye and then finally notices the green eyed man in the room.

"Hey," Louis sighs out. "Sorry to wake you."

"Don't say sorry," Harry smiles softly, "since when are you nice to me?"

It's too early in the morning for either of them to care that they aren't calling each other _shitbag_ or _dicklinson_.

Louis shrugs, "you said just for tonight. So I thought I would be nice just for tonight."

"Isn't the night over? The sun is already rising," Harry folds his arms, leaning on the doorframe.

"The night's not over until my eyes don't feel like potato sacks are on them."

Harry laughs, a genuine laugh that comes out and isn't meant to and leaves him covering his mouth embarrassingly.

The blue eyed boy raises his eyebrows but smiles at the noise, and goes to lay down on his couch. There are moments of silence before Harry responds from his place still at the door.

"You wanna talk about that call?"

"No... Shut up and get here, the night's almost over."

So Harry does, spooning himself behind Louis on the edge of the couch and wrapping an arm around his middle. Harry's curls tickle behind Louis' ears and leave him letting out a little laugh.

"Oi, Styles - my personal space."

Harry doesn't respond, breathing into Louis' neck.

Louis is just about falling asleep when he hears it. He doesn't know if Harry means to say it, but he does, and there's no taking it back.

"I still like you."

Louis pretends that his heart isn't beating out of his chest, because pretending is all they've been doing since the night started.

"But I hate you, and it's complicated, because there's also the possibility that I'm having a baby with someone else..."

But that, Louis can't pretend isn't said.

He already has a baby in Louis, like he _had_ a baby in him five years ago.

It's too much to process, so Louis forces his eyes shut and his mind to go to sleep. Maybe Harry hasn't heard of a condom?

"But I still like you."

Like that's any better...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on instagram: @harrymarriedin 
> 
> Start up a conversation ❤
> 
> Check out Forfeit :)
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11330208/chapters/25360797
> 
> Leave a comment or kudo if you cried :')


	8. Amoureux de Toi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW Y'ALL DON'T LIKE DARCY BUT CHILLAX YO, SHE'S JUST TEMPORARY (oops, spoiler ;)
> 
> CAN I JUST SAY: The last chapter had the biggest and most spontaneous response ever and I just want to give a massive thank you to every single one of you from the bottom of my heart <3 I don't have enough words to express how happy and thankful I am.
> 
> BEFORE YOU READ CHAPTER 8: I have some news :) I have put this on Wattpad so that y'all can read it offline or if you're more of a Wattpad user, it's over there. Just search me up at @Britished
> 
> WARNINGS: There is a panic attack in this chapter. If it is triggering for you, please skip the THIRD TO FOURTH ARROW.
> 
> Additional note: At this point in the fic, time is going a little fast. This is intentional, guys, cause the focus is later on in the story.
> 
> THIS IS A VERY EMOTIONAL CHAPTER, A LOT OF CRYING.
> 
> ALSO: I've been thinking about creating a playlist for this entire fic, slotting in song titles where appropriate so y'all can listen to it (if you don't mind listening to music whilst reading). Because this fic is so emotional, music would make it even better. 
> 
> PLEASE LET ME KNOW .xx
> 
> MASSIVE APOLOGIES FOR THE 2 WEEK WAIT, I HAD PROM, WORK, etc, it was crazy. HERE'S A LONGER CHAP AS A MASSIVE SORRY <3
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY!!!

Louis stirs awake to a different feeling in his stomach. It's not nausea, but it's just as bitter. He remembers the last words he heard from Harry before he dozed off, and knows that the acidulous feeling is connected to that.

Adding onto it, he's shifting awake to the feeling of Harry clutched tight on him, even more fitting to Louis' body than he was when they fell asleep for the third time.

The smaller boy grunts, prying at Harry's fingers on his waist. He hears Harry groan and then the body behind him is pressing further into his back, and Louis' neck is being stuffed with curly hair.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Wha- mm- what?" Harry asks groggily, eyes still shut.

"You fucking leech- get the fuck off me."

It's not that Louis doesn't like the feeling of the person he hates' hands on him and body snug against his, but it's _the person he hates_. Physical contact shouldn't be a thing not unless Louis is attempting to whack Harry past Mars or Harry is trying to trip Louis up.

They hate each other, so their position right now is not at all self-explanatory.

Louis expects to be unheard, but Harry actually unwraps his arms and shifts backwards the slightest. There's a feeling of loss that Louis feels at the action, and it's not just Harry's body heat.

Before he can experience the feeling any longer, Harry's falling off the couch and onto the floor with a thud.

"Ouch!"

"Fucking loser."

"Come again?"

Harry's face pops up at the side of the couch, Louis rolling onto his other side to receive raised eyebrows.

"You need to leave."

Louis sits up. He sees the swell of his stomach, the pudginess the slightest more evident than a couple of days ago and he gulps. Harry looks up at him, hair half in his face, with a look of confusion.

"What?"

The blue eyed boy looks down at his lap and twiddles with his fingers. He doesn't mean to be so blunt, but he's woken up rather stingy.

"I said you need to leave."

Harry runs a hand through his hair to move the strands before his face out of view. A flash of hurt crosses his eyes, and a look of disbelief plasters his face. He opens his mouth to reply but he's not able to form any words.

Honestly, Louis feels the littlest bit of guilt, because the green eyed man looks like a harmless teddy bear on the floor that's just been de-stuffed in the chest. However, Harry isn't innocent, or harmless - Louis knows that for a fact so he shrugs off the bitter feeling.

"Go."

Harry remains speechless, offended and hurt.

"You deaf?"

At that, the curly headed man glares, standing up and slowly making his way to the door. Before he grabs the door handle, he turns around.

"Just because the night is over, doesn't give you an excuse to be rude for the sake of it."

Louis stands up from the couch and crosses his arms over his chest, deadpanning the man.

"Oh, I'm being rude because I hate you," Louis argues.

Harry scoffs. "You don't let the person you hate sleep in the same bed as you."

Louis laughs mockingly. "And you don't shove your dick up the ass of the person you hate but that still happened, innit? What's your issue?"

Harry steps forward multiple times until he's face to face with Louis, hovering over him and the smaller boy is dropping his arms to his sides in response and visibly gulping.

"What's my issue?"

Harry looks down at the boy and holds strong eye contact.

"My issue is that _you don't care_. You tell me I've lost a child and then you tell me to _leave_ as if my heart is doing fucking swell. You think a night of sleep is enough to take the pain away?"

Louis feels the guilt strongly now, and it's not just because he can see the water pooling in Harry's eyes and the day has barely even started yet, but because he can sympathise with Harry on the kind of pain he's feeling. The pain of losing a child.

"I think you should go back to Barcelona."

Harry laughs, loudly and exasperatedly but in evident pain. He then looks at Louis as if he has two heads.

"You just don't care. You never have."

Harry shakes his head and looks down at his feet.

"Goodbye, Louis."

He turns to leave for good, but there's a hand tugging at his tattooed arm.

"Harry?"

The curly headed man faces Louis one last time, on the cusp of losing his mind, and shakes off his touch.

"What?"

Then there's arms wrapping around his neck, and the taller man is being pulled into a hug. Harry is taken back, because the feeling is unusual. They never _just hug -_ Louis never touches him genuinely.

Louis breathes out the air he's been holding in since uttering Harry's name. He clutches a couple of his fingers on the back of Harry's shirt collar, just as the green eyed man comes to rest his hands on Louis' waist.

There's the feeling of the chain and clip of Harry's cross necklace on Louis' fingertips. The silver is warm from the man's skin, and the blue eyed boy succumbs to the feeling of the heat.

Louis, on the tips of his toes, latches on tighter to the taller man, and eventually Harry falls lax into Louis' hug. He ends up hiding his face in Louis' neck and breathing in his scent.

They stay like that, Louis embracing Harry and Harry embracing Louis. They are both aware of the mixed emotions between them, but they hold their grudges against each other too much to openly talk about it.

Just as Louis is the one to initiate the hug, he's the one to end it. As he falls back onto his heels, he very subtly ghosts a kiss on Harry's collarbone just as Harry discreetly feathers a kiss behind his ear on his hair.

They don't talk about that either, dropping their hands limply by their sides instead.

"What was that for?"

Louis looks down at their feet and ignores the question.

"You should go now, and you may want to put your shoes on this time."

Harry gives a small, barely there smile, but instead of going to put on his shoes, stares Louis in the eyes humbly.

"We need to talk."

Louis looks back up at Harry anxiously, filled with nerves because talking can lead to secrets being spilled.

"You can't just ignore what I've admitted, and it's just as bad as you keeping my _dead child_ from me."

Louis flinches at the bluntness.

"You shouldn't trust me with your secrets," Louis stares blankly at Harry.

"You shouldn't be around me with yours," Harry stares back at him plainly. "I _will_ find out who the father of your child is."

Louis turns pale.

"Why? What do you get out of that?"

"A guarantee that I'll have you on a leash."

"I'm not a dog."

"No, but you went after Nick like one just so you could use him as a scapegoat."

Louis looks down defeated, rummaging through his thoughts on what to say.

"I had no choice-"

"There's always a choice."

The blue eyed boy starts to grow irritated, that Harry's shutting him down and that he's _letting_ him.

"Get out."

Harry lets out a mocking laugh and stares Louis directly in the eyes intimidatingly.

"Is that all you can say?"

He scans the boys face, and then drops his jaw in a fake gasp.

"No way," Harry takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest, "you've gone soft. You're _limp_."

"Shut up," Louis grits his teeth.

"No, this is incredible."

"I will hit you."

" _Go on_."

Louis wants to, because he's lost it in the mere split second following Harry's lack of mercy on him, but he _can't_. He can't get his arms to move, or his fists to clench.

Harry notices it and smiles smugly.

"See. You've gone soft-"

"I have not fucking gone soft!"

Part of him wishes he would have just let Harry leave, because it's too early for his blood pressure to be rising. Then there's a part of him that likes it, _likes Harry making his blood boil._ He's always liked it, that's why he's lasted five years seeing the man regularly.

The rush of hate is appealing, and so is the act of Harry staring him down intensely whilst moving his body impeccably closer to Louis'.

"You've gone soft," Harry's voice is just above a whisper, "admit it."

"I have not," Louis responds quietly.

He wants to rip his eyes away from Harry's because he feels like he's being stripped naked and revealed, but he can't seem to wrench them away.

"Yes, you have."

Harry inches his face closer.

"No...I haven't," Louis gulps.

"Yes," Harry whispers, smirking, "you have."

Harry's lips ghost over Louis', and it leaves the smaller boy frozen in his spot and his words caught in his throat for seconds too long until he's finally able to speak.

"No, I haven't, but your morning breath is going to make me go soft as I pass out from it."

"Smooth, Dicklinson."

"Thanks, Styleswhore."

Louis' heart flutters at the use of insults, because it's just like the old times which Louis has been craving and wanting back since he realised he could miss it.

"Now leave."

"Gladly."

And once Harry does, Louis lets go of his façade and sits on his couch, the same place where the other man has just slept with him, trying to process what Harry said to him the night before. That he could be the father to _another_ child.

That there's _someone else._

That bitter thought remains in Louis' head, even as he sips on half a bottle of Smirnoff vodka.

He knows he shouldn't, but he's not okay.

Not when nothing is going to plan.

Not when he knows he needs to get an abortion but can't bring himself to.

Not when he's starting to feel something other than hate for Harry Styles.

He's jealous.

➸

When Harry gets home and bathes in a morning bath with a pink bath bomb, he hangs over the side tapping on his laptop and booking a flight to Paris instead of Barcelona.

It's not that he's running away from his problems, it's just that he's better off without them. So as he grabs the milk for his tea from his fridge, a white fluffy towel around his waist, and his phone starts ringing, he has to groan.

He has no doubt that the caller ID reads 'problem.' It actually reads 'Zayn', so Harry lightens himself up a little bit.

_"You have a prenatal paternity test today at one with Darcy."_

"I have a what now?"

Harry doesn't even get a _hi_ from Zayn. As soon as he answers the call, he's smacked in the ear with the fact that he's got an appointment in a hour and he's not even dressed and he's living on the coast meaning he's got to drive almost an hour into the city.

_"A prenatal paternity test to find out if you're the idiot you insulted yesterday."_

Harry drops his spoon into his tea and then unscrews the lid to the milk after slotting his phone between his head and shoulder.

"Five years and this is how you greet me."

_"What, did you want me to ask how was staying over Louis'?"_

The sound of the milk top flinging across the kitchen counter is due to Harry's hand slipping at the fact that Zayn knows where he was yesterday evening.

"How the hell do you know that I stayed over Louis'?"

_"E! News, Twitter-"_

"Wait, what?!"

_"Yeah, Harry, your pathetic ass was pictured entering his complex."_

Harry grabs the milk as steadily as he can and pours some into his cup of tea, a mere distraction away from what he's just being told.

"How bad are the headlines?"

Zayn clears his throat and fakes a television presenter's accent.

_"'Harry Styles Cares About Enemy Louis Tomlinson,' 'Styles Papped In Apology Run,' 'Harry Ditches The Hate.'"_

Harry groans, "those are terrible."

There's a moment of silence and then the sound of a door closing, as if Zayn has entered a different room. Then he's speaking quietly into the phone.

_"Harry, I don't think you understand why Gigi and I are so pissed off at you. Yeah, it's your dick, knock up whoever you want, but not when you have a job that requires twelve hours of your everyday, and not when you have feelings for someone else."_

Harry gulps and freezes in his position, hand on his teaspoon in his teacup where he's been stirring his tea.

"Who do I have feelings for?"

He hears Zayn let out an airy laugh.

_"The same person you went to see yesterday evening."_

Oh.

"I don't."

_"Don't you dare lie to me when I'm here respectfully warning you. If this child ends up being yours and if there's a mere chance in hell before it freezes over that Louis feels the same way back, then you seriously need to evaluate your situation. You don't get both."_

"I don't like Louis."

_"Your voice is wavering."_

"That child won't be mine."

_"You don't know that."_

"Zayn, stop."

_"No, Harry. What friend would I be if I didn't tell you the truth? You are stuck in a bloody daydream with rainbows and fucking unicorns, whilst the real world is dealing with your potential child, the fact you so disrespectfully outed Louis on_ national television _and the horrible headlines you've put him in."_

Harry feels his eyes start to sting.

_"Get yourself together. Get your ass to the hospital, sort your feelings out, apologise to Louis for ruining his relationship with Nick when he's probably already struggling to deal with the fact he has his own kid, and get your purpose in life correct. Jesus fucking Christ, you need to stop it, Harry."_

Then the tears start to fall.

_"Stop going around ruining people. Stop acting like a child. Get your head straight and stop making messes you can't clean. This is reality Harry, and one day you're going to end up driving the wrong person insane if it isn't me already and karma will make you pay for it."_

Harry lets a choked sob out.

_"I love you, Harry, but you love a mess more."_

He feels like every part of him is going to crumble. Zayn has just stripped him bare, all of his layers are revealed and he's never felt so attacked and ashamed before.

_"You're fucking me over by reverting back to that person you used to be. Five years, Harry, you've been sane for five years and now you're losing it. It's all because of Louis, isn't it? Because you don't just like him, you_ love _him. You love the person you hate, don't you? Tell me I'm wrong."_

Harry can't. All he lets out is a strained cry.

_"You love Louis Tomlinson."_

He can't stop it.

_"But you hate him just as much."_

Even if he could, he doesn't think he would.

_"You put hate and love in a cauldron, they'll brew and cancel each other out and you'll get nothing. You're gonna be_ nothing _by the end of this."_

He knows.

_"So no, Harry, I don't think the headlines are terrible."_

Harry knows what Zayn says next will crush him to the point where he will find himself on his knees.

And he knows he deserves it.

_"I think you are."_

He is.

_"I'll see you. Goodbye."_

Zayn isn't a bad friend for leaving him crying alone, he's just fair.

It's what Harry deserves.

➸

He's a full twenty minutes late to the appointment, and Darcy's sat there with her bitchy face, eyes humoured at Harry's red and puffy appearance. Dr. Mills stands with a tube of Darcy's blood and gives a beaming smile when he sees Harry.

"H, how are you doing?"

He pulls Harry into a hug, and the green eyed man's arms come up loosely to return the gesture.

"I'm doing fine."

Darcy snickers, "you look triggered. What prenatal paternity test is this? Your seventh?"

Harry's eyes form into slits at the insult.

"My first."

"I'm surprised."

"Yeah, keep that look on your face, looks like you just had a dick shoved up your flat ass."

"Excuse me, my ass is flat? Have you seen yours?"

"Yes, I very much have and it has more volume than your mascara."

Dr. Mills waves a needle before Harry and raises his eyebrows.

"So are we going to do this or?"

"Yes, let's get this bollocks out of the way."

Darcy mimics the word 'bollocks' childishly as Harry takes a seat in the chair beside her. He rolls up his floral sleeve and exposes his arm, eyes firm on Darcy filled with fury.

Dr. Mills wastes no time in drawing Harry's blood, shaking the small tube a little and placing a label on it. He picks up both their tubes and a third tube and utters a short, 'just going to run these by the lab,' and then leaves the room.

The entire air is solely awkwardness and Harry huffs, folding his arms.

"Why are you huffing and puffing? You're not Thomas the Tank Engine."

"You should stick to screwing your face up. It's less embarrassing than your jokes."

"If I were you, I wouldn't speak to me like that."

Harry stands up and faces her.

"I'm talking to you like how you're acting. Like a pile of shit on the floor."

She glares and grips her hands on the arm handles.

"I will turn your child against you."

"It's not mine!"

"Oh, that's rich coming from a forgetful bastard like you."

"You know what?" Harry scoffs. "Fuck yourself."

He leaves the room and Darcy's mouth wide open. He's had enough of people having a go at him today. Harry takes a seat in the waiting room, and leans his head against the wall. He's mentally exhausted, so he's not opposed to the idea of drifting off to sleep, so he does.

Before he knows it, he's being shaken awake gently, and his neck cracks as he straightens it and looks at the person before him.

"Hey, H," Dr. Mills greets him with a small smile. "The results are back."

"So quick?" Harry asks groggily.

"You've been asleep for two hours."

He internally groans, because those two hours may just consist of fans around the hospital taking pictures of him.

"Do I wanna know?"

Dr. Mills sighs and gives Harry a sympathetic look.

_"The baby's yours."_

➸

All he wants is Louis.

He slams the car door, chest heaving, tears streaking his face, sobs wrecking his body, throat clenching, body shaking and head pounding, and _all he wants is Louis._

He can't stop shaking, and his curls fall over his face and stick to the tear tracks on his red cheeks. He fumbles frantically for his phone, his chest in pain and stomach clenching. He's barely able to unlock his phone with his trembling fingers.

Seconds pass him where he's in pure agony and he can't get his lungs to breath, and he starts to sweat and feel nauseas, and Louis picks up the phone to the sound of someone dying.

_"What the fuck do you- Harry? Harry, are you okay?!"_

"I can't-" Harry chokes, "can't breath," it comes out strangled.

_"Shit. Fuck. Harry, just- fuck- just breath. You're having a panic attack- shit! Okay, um-"_

"Help- me!"

He feels disconnected from his body, like he isn't there, like he's dying, like he's _already dead_. He grips onto the steering wheel with his free hand, nails digging into the leather.

_"Okay, okay, listen to me. Listen to me, Harry. Put me on speaker."_

Harry's barely able to press the button, having to beat at his chest painfully to force his lungs to breath. He lets out a cry of pain and drops his phone on the dashboard.

_"Harry, listen to me, yeah?_ _You're safe, you're alright. It's okay. It's okay, Harry, just breath. You're okay."_

The green eyed man clutches onto the steering wheel with both hands, head down as he trembles vigorously. His jeans soak up his tears, wet dots forming.

_"Don't worry about giving me an answer, just breath. Put your hand on your heart."_

Harry brings a shaking hand to his heart, fingers barely brushing his shirt.

"You done it?"

"Ye-ah."

_"Good. Do you feel it beating? That's because you're alive, Harry. You're breathing, it just feels like you aren't. You're breathing, you're okay, Haz, you're okay."_

It works, because Harry feels his shaking form into little jolts and his short breaths extend.

_"It's okay, Haz, don't worry. You're breathing. You're alive."_

Harry's left letting out little whimpers, resting back against his seat and throwing his head back in relief.

He lets out a breathless laugh.

"Haz?"

_"Yeah, it made me one syllable closer to telling you you're okay."_

Harry's body is attacked with a rush of love. His heart flutters and his head feels light.

"Thank you."

_"Yeah... What happened?"_

It's too soon to say it out loud, but he owes Louis an explanation, even if vomit reaches the back of his throat.

"I have a- the child is mine."

The line goes quiet and the silence makes Harry feel even more ill.

"Say something."

_"Oh."_

"What, are you not going to pick on me for it? You not gonna pelt me?"

_"No."_

_If only Harry knew the truth about Louis' baby._

"No?"

_"No."_

"Oh."

Harry relaxes himself, exhausted. He clenches his eyes shut and breathes out a long breath.

_"But what about me?"_

"Huh?"

The green eyed man furrows his eyebrows and leans forward in his seat to hear Louis through the phone clearer.

_"What about my baby? You gonna leave for some girl?"_

"What?"

_"Forget what I said. I know you have a...a child now but last night it was me - it was my baby that was yours. You can pretend, if it makes you feel better."_

So Harry does, because it _does_ make him feel better pretending he has a child with Louis over knowing that he _has one_ with a stranger.

"Okay."

_"Okay?"_

"Okay."

_"Okay."_

"Come to Paris with me?"

So Louis does.

_"Yeah...yeah, okay."_

➸

Louis doesn't mean it.

He doesn't mean it in the next two months they spend in Paris in their alternate universe to fall ridiculously in love with the idea of Harry being the father to his child.

He falls ridiculously in love with the headlines, his place in bed at The Peninsula waking up to Harry's curls in his face, the night lights making Harry's eyes sparkle as they view the whole of Paris from the balcony.

He falls ridiculously in love with the way Harry gets on his knees to caress his stomach, the way the light Paris breeze would drop a strand of his hair in front of his face and Harry would use his hand to comb it away behind his ear.

He falls ridiculously in love with the reservations at the five star restaurants and the morning breakfasts in beds and the open balcony doors as they move the furniture to dance to _Paris_ by the _Chainsmokers._

He falls _ridiculously,_ so much that he doesn't realise the time passing by, his bump twice the size or the fact that he's been borrowing Harry's shirts because they fit better.

So when they're on their flight back home to LA in October and Harry is snoring, his sounds adding to the hum of the plane engine, Louis knows they have to stop it.

They have to stop it because the looks they receive - smiles and expressions of joy - when they arrive on set on their first Monday back at the same time from the same car in the midst of a joke about Niall, it's pretty clear that everyone thinks they are together.

They all clap and eye the two knowingly as they walk through greeting everyone. Louis takes a seat at the discussion table.

"How was Paris?" Niall smirks from the opposite side of Louis.

Louis rolls his eyes as he receives the first script of the season. Harry sits down beside him, stealing his script and opening the first page.

Louis whacks him on the hand.

"Ow! What the fuck?"

Christopher laughs from across the table, "no opening the script until everyone is here."

Louis snatches his script back from Harry just as Taylor flings him a highlighter.

"Thanks, Tay."

Louis receives a dirty look from Harry.

"Tay?"

"Oh, I don't know if you've realised in the _five fucking years_ we've spent with each other but that's my best friend in the script. We're pretty close."

"He's just being salty, Lou," Taylor laughs just as Zayn and Gigi enter holding hands, both wearing a ring.

"No way," Louis smiles widely.

"Yes way!" Gigi responds excitedly.

"Fuck yes!" Niall leaves his seat to hug the two.

"Welcome back, assholes," Harry smiles, slouched in his seat. "When's the wedding?"

"Oh, you're not invited."

Zayn pats the back of Harry's shoulder as he walks past him and takes a seat on his free side, Gigi behind as she laughs with Niall.

"Harry Styles is. Who are you and what have you done to him, Louis? He's glowing."

"Shouldn't I be the one glowing?" Louis scoffs, swinging on his chair.

"Already were," Zayn winks as he leans over Harry to ruffle Louis' fringe.

"Hola bitches!"

Liam is next to enter, hands in the air as he beams.

"It's great to be back, woo! Season fucking six! Yeah!- _Luke!_ Bro!"

He swings himself over to Luke who welcomes him back with a tight hug.

"Dude, you'll never guess what happened over the summer."

"What?"

"I landed myself a date with fucking Lottie."

"I wouldn't tell Louis that-"

"You _what_ _now_ with my baby sister?" Louis' mouth drops open exaggeratedly as he stops swinging on his chair, clutching the table.

"I may have...we, er-"

Louis breaks out in a laugh at Luke's terrified face.

"It's fine, just don't fuck with my baby sister or I'll fuck you and not in that way."

Christopher groans to himself as he puts a hand on his forehead. "I hired a bunch of kids."

Then Lottie and Louise are entering the room, a burst of fruity perfume wafting through the air. Lottie gives Louis a large hug from behind.

"Hello, big brother! Long time no see," she smacks a kiss on his cheek.

"Ew, you candy floss smelling excuse of a sister- get off me!"

"Love you too, Lou," she laughs as she walks off to take an empty seat by Luke.

"Harry, when was the last time you cut your hair?!"

Harry gets a hand running through his locks, no doubt Louise's. He shrugs and she smiles vibrantly.

"Oh, this is some good shit."

Just when Louis thinks that everyone has entered, he realises Nick is not there. Then the man is walking in morbidly, not greeting anyone and taking a seat, dampening the very exuberant mood in the room.

It's awkward for Louis to sit there for the three hours discussing costumes, camera angles and the story behind Alex and Tyler and how that would play out given Louis' bodily change.

So it's even more awkward when Nick is calling him out for missing a line as they read through the script for the first time, Louis distracted by peeling the wrapper off his cereal bar.

"Oi, Tomlinson, you missed a line."

Louis looks up, face straight, and then looks back at his script, squinting his eyes to find the line he missed.

"Sorry, mate," he mutters.

"You're not sorry, don't lie to me after everything."

The awkwardness in the room is multiplied by ten, and Louis stops halfway through taking his first bite out of his cereal bar to stare at Nick uncomfortably.

"Okay?"

"No, it's not fucking okay. Fucking keep your eyes on the script!"

"What the actual hell, Nick?! Why are you speaking to me like that?!"

"Because that's what you fucking deserve, you lying son of a bitch!"

Louis flinches and Harry sees it. The green eyed man puts a hand on Louis' knee offering comfort.

"It's been two months, get over it."

"How do I fucking get over a scandal like that?! You sick fuck!"

"Nick-" Christopher intervenes.

"No, for fuck's sake! Louis doesn't get to get away with the shit he pulled!"

He turns to face to Louis.

"You fucking deserve to lose that child and I hope to God you do- _Jesus fucking Christ!_ You bastard! You-"

_"You're fired."_

No one expects it, not even Louis who is fuming, his face red. Worse things have been said by Harry to Louis, and he's never gotten sacked.

So really, no one expects it.

Nick's face drops. He looks like he has seen a ghost.

"What?"

Christopher stands up, face appalled.

"I said you're fired."

"What? Why?!" Nick pushes his chair back forcefully and stands up in shock.

"Because of the way you just spoke to Louis. You have no right to say what you've just said. I will not tolerate such vile words. You could be the star or an extra, and it could be five years or fifteen you've spent here, you're fired either way. You'll get your months pay."

"What the fuck?!"

Harry sits emotionless, face neutral. Inside he's boiling with rage despite Nick being his mate because he doesn't like how he's just spoken to Louis.

"What's the difference between him and Harry?!"

Everyone is speechless and shocked, but amidst the silence there's the small, quiet answer from none other than Lottie.

"Everyone knows they both love each other."

Louis, who has taken a chomp out of his cereal bar because he may be fuming but he's still starving, flings the rest of the bar at his sister's head.

Nick takes the moment of attention being diverted away to leave the room with whatever dignity he has left. The moment he leaves, Christopher in tow to finalise his statement, the mood in the room lifts as Louis starts to curse at his sister, everyone chuckling at his reaction.

However, Harry sits with his head down at the _on my dead body_ and _when hell freezes over_ that Louis throws at Lottie. Everyone laughing only makes him sink further in his chair. Nothing hurts like the truth, and the truth is...

_Harry's in love with Louis, but Louis doesn't love him back._

That's just the way it's meant to be. Harry's broken the enemy accord, so in return he pays for it by sitting quietly and letting his heart get ripped out of his chest and sliced under the blade of a metaphorical meat machine.

You don't fall in love with the person you hate.

➸

Harry's hiding.

It's one in the afternoon and the cast and crew have left the set to grab lunch before they dive into the making of season six. Harry, (for the sake of his heart) imperceptibly slips away and picks a spot behind one of the couches on set.

He leans his back against it and brings his knees up, and spends half an hour with his head down and mindlessly twiddling with his phone.

The peace and quiet makes him miss Paris.

He misses the night time in which the city is so scintillatingly lit up that the shape of Louis' cheekbones would be highlighted stunningly.

He misses escorting Louis down the grand staircase of The Peninsula, the blue eyed boy's fingers tucked in his hand like a princess', and he misses Louis' glare when he would call him exactly that.

He misses the swaying bodies and the grand music at the Cristal et Diamant ball. He misses the familiarity of dancing gracefully with Louis on the ball floor just like when they first met.

But what he misses most?

Moving the furniture just so they could dance, four in the morning, seven in the evening or eleven at night - whenever it felt right.

He misses the unreal world they created whilst they were away from reality because it all felt _real._

"Harry?"

He misses it so much, he doesn't realise he has started crying.

"Are you okay?"

Or Louis standing before him, hair ruffled by the light October LA breeze and lips in a straight line.

Harry wipes at his face, "I'm swell."

The smaller boy deadpans, clutching onto the bag of packeted food he has brought back with him. Harry internally scolds himself for being caught in his state.

"Why are you back already?"

A look of offence crosses Louis' face as he sets the plastic bag onto the couch over the back.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me, no?"

Harry sighs and turns his head away, Louis' stare somewhat intimidating. He isn't in the mood to talk about how he's feeling, and definitely not with the person he hates despite their two month crash in Paris also known as their two month period of stupidity.

"I've seen you all morning."

Louis' face screws up at Harry's lack of enthusiasm.

"What's up your ass?"

"Definitely not you."

"Yeah, that'd be a little awkward, bottom and all," Louis gestures to himself.

Harry gives a mere hum and rests his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. He chews on the inside of his cheek and absentmindedly clears his throat.

"Please leave."

"Why?"

"'Cause you hate me and I hate you."

The blue eyed boy takes a step back, disbelief plastering his face as his mouth opens.

"Yet that didn't stop you from two months of Paris with me, did it? What the hell do you mean _leave?_ "

The curly headed man snaps his eyes open and the sheer look of coldness is enough to leave Louis closing in on himself with his arms.

"Two months of Paris did it for me."

"Did what?" Louis huffs, confused and irritated.

"I booked that plane ticket to Paris to get my shit together. Bringing you along proved that I never will."

"What, so you regret taking me?" Louis interrogates him, feeling like he's had a blow to the gut.

"No."

"Then what? What is it? What the hell is it?"

"I regret coming back."

Harry lets out a sad laugh and runs his fingers through his hair hopelessly.

"Because Paris also proved that we could live a life without hating each other."

Louis' chest feels engulfed with anxiety, because whatever Harry is getting at, Louis can't be okay with it, with _them._ He wants nothing but for them to forget Paris ever happened (even if he misses it dearly) and go back to the way if was before.

Simple.

"Why would you want that?"

"Because..." Harry trails off.

He bites at his lip, and dares to look deeply into Louis' eyes as he says what he says next.

_"I'm in love with you."_

Louis' breath gets trapped in his throat and his lungs begin to pulse. He stumbles back, all the whilst his knees fall weak and he has to carry himself to the floor, eyes blank as if he's disconnected from his body.

"Say you're in love with me too..." Harry whispers. "I don't want to be in love if you don't..." He looks down shamefully.

Harry, in all his honesty, starts to tremble, because he knows whatever Louis' response is, his heart will be slotted in a meat grinder, grinded and disposed of in a landfill. His voice starts to waver and break.

"Tell me Paris made you fall in love with me..."

He forces back his tears, because he knows whatever Louis' response is, he's going to have to live through it. It only makes him strain himself and makes it ten times harder to hold the tears in.

"Paris is Paris," Louis finally speaks quietly.

"Of course I fell in love... but just not with you, only the _idea_ of you... I'm sorry."

Louis can't bring himself to look at Harry, because there's a voice in his head shaming him for his next words, but he knows he has to say it.

"I may question what I'd do if I didn't have you in my life, but that's because you drive me up the wall and you insult me...and I've gotten _so used to hating you_ that I don't think I could live without it."

Harry crumbles, his tears falling and betraying him.

"So yeah, I'm not in love with you back, because if I am, I'd be writing myself a death sentence, which is why I think it's best if we pretend Paris never happened, and that you never fell in love with me."

Harry lets out a choked sob. Louis' never felt so guilty before.

"Harry, you're not in love with me. You never were."

"No!"

Even though Harry's body is being wrecked with cries, he forces his words out past the lump in his throat.

"You do _not_ get to tell me how I feel! That's mine! That belongs to _me!_ And I'm fucking in love with you, okay?!"

Louis gives the smallest nod, one that's almost unable to be seen.

"And I'm sorry, but I can't just turn that off."

The blue eyed boy - face distraught with sorrow - looks away shamefully. Then looks back up at Harry and offers him a solution.

"You can have me for the day..." it's barely audible but Harry hears it. "Then tomorrow, this was never real. Okay? It would have never happened."

Harry looks at him, chin wet and eyes red and despite his puffy face, he's just as beautiful as he looked when they danced to _All Of The Stars_ by _Ed Sheeran_ the last night they had in Paris where they moved the furniture for the umpteenth time just to dance.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah...okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write them in Paris so it would feel like it never happened in which they are to act like it never did. It's all part of my scheme guys ;)
> 
> Please let me know about the idea of creating a playlist. Let me know if copying this to Wattpad is useful too.
> 
> Much love and all of it in the world .xx


	9. Careless Twice, Suffer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait, I've been sick :(
> 
> I am also so sorry for killing you guys every chapter. I'm genuinely sorry :') Like, there's so much tears and angst and problems. Llama sorry (twaimz reference ;)
> 
> GUYS DUNKIRK WAS FAB.
> 
> FEEEYONNN IS MY BABY.
> 
> <3
> 
> ENJOY .xx and excuse ze spelling herrors
> 
> WARNING: DEATH (don't assume the worst, don't be like that. I would never...)

That one day Harry keeps Louis for?

That turns into another _two months,_ and with each passing day, Louis forgets he ever used a single digit number. He pretends not to notice the football sized bump he grows, or the way his back starts to hurt because he's _six months knocked up_ with a child he promised himself to abort.

It's December, and he acts like the dynamics on set haven't changed, that Harry and him are not spending every lunchtime cooped up behind a couch together. He acts like he isn't beaming because the night before Harry brewed actual edible food on the stove with him.

Louis' good at his job. That's why it's also just acting when _Alex_ has got a thumb stuffed in his mouth and a hand holding his head back and Louis can't help but moan. The only thing Louis can't act is a boner, so when he gets a barely subtle one as _Ale_ x gropes at his ass, Louis has to act like he isn't a thirsty cunt, whilst acting like he is to do the sex scene justice. Then he tells himself it's just because _Alex_ is hot. Not Harry.

Christopher smiles smugly when his actor stupidly convinces himself Harry and Alex are two different people. They are very alike - same face, same hair, same daunting green eyes and same knack for screwing shit up. _Same fucking person._

So really, Harry's hot. Harry's really hot, Louis notices, as they sit in the hair and makeup room in their usual seats in front of the mirrors. Louise has popped out to make the two stars a cup of tea.

"Oi."

Harry looks at Louis through the mirror.

"What?"

"What happened to Darcy?"

Harry lets out a sigh from the pit of his stomach and looks down to twiddle with his phone.

"Zayn and Gigi have been keeping tabs for me."

Louis hums, shifting forward in his seat. He reaches for a comb and fiddles with it, the air in the room tense. Then he bites the inside of his cheek, runs his nails against the bristles of the comb and slumps down in his chair.

"What does she mean to you?"

The green eyed man raises his eyebrows at the question and then straight-faces Louis through the mirror.

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Nothing. She means nothing. What? You think just because she's carrying my child I'm going to drop to my knees and give a fuck? It was a mistake. She was a mistake."

"You have for me."

"Yeah, 'cause it's not my mistake."

Nausea washes over Louis, and it's like he's been sliced across the chest. As he places a hand on his bump, it's as if the past six months has just hit him in the face and clogged up his airways.

"And what if it was?"

He can see Harry growing pale in the face. He looks at Louis with an unreadable expression through the mirror.

"I don't know...and I don't care because it's not."

Louis doesn't have the chance to respond back as Louise is walking back into the room with two stirred cups of tea, so he leaves it at that.

He doesn't speak to Harry for the rest of the day, and when nightfall comes and it's half seven in the evening and Louis' one of the last few people to leave set, he doesn't expect a phone call from exactly Harry. Or the dull pain on his shoulder.

The entrance door hits him painfully as he fumbles for his phone and he can't help but let out a little whimper.

"What do you want, Styles?"

He doesn't get an answer. All he gets is the mewling and whimpering of a person in pain - _Harry_ in pain. Six months ago, he wouldn't have even answered his phone seeing Harry's ID regardless of the possibility that something could've be wrong. Harry wouldn't have been calling him at all anyway.

So much has changed from the outline of Louis' body and the number of insults spewing out of his mouth towards Harry to the tolerance he's maintained unfathomably increasing and just _the way he sees Harry._

Harry will always, _always_ be the person Louis hates, don't get him wrong. He will always wear the face of the person the blue eyed boy will always detest. Louis will take the disdainfulness to the grave with him, but the colossal blur of the past _half a fucking year_ \- from the seventeen days he fell ill, to the month the green eyed actor went awol, to the blissful months of Paris which now appears like a wonderland under a glass floor, and to the weeks leading up to December being nothing but spoiled with domestic scenarios - that hate has been embedded in a place that Louis could access but chooses not to.

Which is why he doesn't end the call at the quiet yet skin shredding sobs coming through the line. Which is why his stomach churns and he feels like his body is being assaulted because Harry's is with suffocated breaths.

Which is why he knows that in the curly headed man's state, a voice over the phone won't suffice the pain being caused by Lord knows what, and that driving almost an hour to the coast of LA to comfort him would be the most beneficial thing.

"Where are you?"

_"H-Home-"_

"Don't leave."

So he revs up the engine to his car, manoeuvres out of his parking space and hits the freeway with a thirsty line of paparazzi trailing him.

He can afford it - the numerous snaps of his shell of a body as he creates a racket on the white door of his co-star's beach house. He can afford it because after Paris, the headlines merely mean a thing to him anymore. Also, the Christmas season has left him pining uselessly over the warmth of a body beside his, and his baby's - anything to settle down his mind from the dreadful realisation that an abortion six months in is far fetched - so he can afford being papped at Harry's front door in a haste, forgetting his hate on his own doorstep.

Part of him thinks it is all part of Harry's plan: take him to Paris. Depict to him levels of acceptance without having to pin him down by the wrists and childishly name the thrust of his hips 'making love'. Create a dangerous sanctuary, adjective contradicting the noun, where time is just an anomaly erased due to it's uselessness, and make Louis forget time ever existed.

He can regrettably convince himself that Harry knows, that he _has_ known since he spread Louis' secret like the inside of Pandora's box. That Harry flushed Paris down on him to mentally chain him to a post whilst feeling so physically free twirling around the Peninsula's living room. He can convince himself that Harry's fucking with his mind.

That Harry is so classy he had to take Louis to the City of Love just to mentally screw with him, just for him to come back to LA and it to feel like it never even happened yet be constantly reminded of it as if he served a lifetime sentence to the COL.

But then again, if Harry's own co-stars have to keep tabs on the mother of his unexpected child because the green eyed man can't bare the truth, if he knew Louis' secret, he wouldn't have jetted with him to Paris.

So Louis do doesn't convince himself at all, doesn't poke holes in the matter any further. There's nothing to poke. Harry may farm hate but not schemes, because if he's going to ruin a person, he'll do it unplanned with his dickhead drilling in first.

Louis would know.

And he doesn't second thought the act of not convincing himself, because the taller man his thoughts are chewed up with opens the front door, mindless of the paparazzi scattered around his yard like beads. His face is contorted with pain and he wears a crumbled heart on his sleeve.

Someone who looks like an innocent five year old who's just been told their mother's never coming back, eyelashes matted with tears, couldn't possibly be capable of plotting and scheming and planning to single-handedly and first-handedly ruin Louis a second time (God knows how and what for).

But then again, Harry Styles is capable of hate, therefore he can be capable of anything.

Right now, he's capable of pulling the blue eyed boy into a weak, wordless hug, leaving the latter to elbow the door shut behind him.

Louis is the smaller one, but as Harry hides his snotty face in the crease of Louis' neck, the green eyed man so evidently is more of a little piece of China in the moment. Harry locks his ringed fingers in Louis' brunette strands with one hand and his other comes up to grab with a balled first at Louis' sweater between their chests.

Harry wishes for the moment he is physically smaller, so that he can curl up into a little ball in his co-star's arms and be cradled to sleep and put out of his misery. He can breath a little better now that Louis is here, and despite the voice in the back of his head saying to detach from the embrace, being cuddled to a steady breathing pace is silver to being cradled asleep like an infant.

The soothing 'shh's and hand rubbing circles on Harry's back is better than the feeling of his knuckles scraping the wall, or his fists abusing the doors in his home. The feeling of Louis' chest on the side of his face as they tumble to the couch is better than being cooped up alone in his sheets.

The sound of Louis' voice is better than the bitter and predicted LA rain beating against Harry's home windows trying to drown out his cries for help.

Anything - _Louis_ \- is better.

"Hey. Hey," Louis cups Harry's face, forcing him to look up.

The curly headed man sniffles and smacks at a falling tear.

"What's wrong, Haz?"

Harry looks down, eyes coming in contact with Louis' round stomach. He can't look the smaller boy in the eye.

"What happened?"

Louis doesn't expect an answer, knows that there's a painful lump in the other man's throat.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," he runs a hand through Harry's matted down curls from sweat, brushing the strands away from his dampened forehead.

"Y-You have to s-stop drinking."

"What?"

"P-Please, I've lost two children now, don't make me lose a third."

Louis doesn't make the connection Harry wants him to, and he's afraid to even make sense of what he's being told.

"W-What?"

"Darcy, she- my baby- I- _they're gone,_ Lou-" he's cut off by choking on his spit. "They're gone!"

His chest ruptures with cries capable of rattling him into coma, and Louis is lost on how to handle the frenzy in his arms, how to make anything better for Harry.

"What- what do you mean?" Louis grabs Harry by the shoulders.

"I-I- they-"

"They what, Harry?!" Louis shakes him, leaving the green eyed man curling into himself and feeling attacked.

Louis drops his hands guiltily and cups Harry's cheeks as a more gentle approach. There's a deathly thumping in both of their chests, Harry because he can barely breath and Louis because if his jump to conclusion is anything accurate, he doesn't know how to make it better for Harry.

The curly headed man fists at his hair, tears dropping onto Louis' woolly sweater, patches of wet being formed.

"C'mon, Harry," the blue eyed boy speaks just above a whisper, Harry's cries forming into strangled sobs with very few sounds managing to escape. "Tell me what happened and I will fix it for you, I promise."

It's an empty promise and as Harry begins to whimper, body vibrating in rounds of shivers, hands coming up to wrap around Louis' stomach for comfort - Louis feels even more guilty.

Harry dares to look Louis in the eyes, his own red and puffy from a cascade of tears. In the moment of intimacy they share briefly before Harry is looking down again, Harry doesn't see it. He doesn't see any layer of loath in Louis' eyes, just ones of worry and care.

The same look in Louis' eyes he had when the green eyed man gloated over the balcony in Paris and was frightened out of his skin by the scare Louis then pulled on him. He had leaned over the side with the reflex action to catch his falling phone, and whilst he caught it with the tips of his fingers, he almost fell over himself.

If Louis truly and solely hated him, his eyes would be blank right now. More likely, he wouldn't be here. He wouldn't _care_ , so the fact that he does is enough to get Harry to settle down his cries, swallow down the lump in his throat and form a coherent sentence.

"D-Darcy was...she was rushed into the hospital for emergency labour hours ago, but it went sideways and...and they lost her, and the baby..."

Oh.

What does Louis say in a moment like this? In a moment where the words coming out of Harry's mouth sounds like something out of a tragic movie, unreal yet so real at the same time? How does he fix something like that? What does he _do_ other than gape and stare as if he's seen a ghost.

"So please... Stop drinking... Don't make me lose a third child."

And how does he respond to Harry playing make believe in a moment of complete vulnerability? Louis doesn't know, not with the cruelly insensitive answer he gives leaving Harry shaking in his skin and protesting.

"Harry, this baby isn't- it isn't yours-"

"Let it be! _Let it be!_ Give them a father before they start asking where their dad is!"

"Yeah and when they find out the truth, what then? What fucking then?!"

Harry looks at him with hopeful doe eyes, hands clutching onto both of Louis' forearms. His face is so incredibly close to Louis', and up this close, the smaller boy sees all his pieces of strength hanging together with the thinnest lines of thread.

"You do what you do best, Louis! You lie. You fucking _act!_ You do your _job!"_

The blue eyed boy looks away, eyes anywhere but on Harry's. He can't cope with the helpless look he's given, the complete look of a beggar on his co-star's face. Every second makes it harder for Louis to deny the one thing Harry wants: to be the father to his child.

"Harry, you're mourning. Using my child to replace the one you've just lost doesn't just fix it."

"I'm not replacing anyone! I just-"

"Being a father to my child means _raising_ them! Being a _family_ and that barely means a thing when all we know is hate!"

Harry grips Louis by the face and forces him to look him in the eye.

"You call Paris 'hate'?! You call the moment I told you I'm in love with you ' _hate_ '?!"

"No I call it child's play! None of this is real, Harry! You're not in love with me! You're not-"

Harry rips away from him in frustration and on the verge of breaking completely.

"No! I'm _not_ doing this again! You don't tell me how I feel! You don't!"

The rattled man shakes his head violently as Louis looks away again.

"You don't get to be selfish!"

"You're not in love with me..." the smaller boy protests weakly, mentally tired from their battling.

That's the final straw for Harry.

He's had it, Louis knows, as he's grabbed by the wrist and dragged up from the couch. He's tumbling, and all he can register is that he's about to fall before he's smashing into Harry and the taller man is gripping him firmly around his lower back.

Then there are lips crashing against his.

That's all it takes for Louis to fall pliant. That's all it takes for him to give it up and stop the battling - the salty lips capturing his in a emotionally consumed kiss, the hands on his waist hugging him close in desperation.

Louis' powerless. Harry's powerful. It's overwhelming. It's too much and now he's weak in the knees and thankful for Harry's hold more than anything as they draw away from each other, nose on nose.

"I don't want to argue anymore," Harry speaks just above a whisper.

"Neither do I," Louis responds.

"Could we ever be something, Lou?"

The blue eyed boy is caught off guard with the question. It's too soon, too abrupt for Louis to give a genuine answer. He furrows his eyebrows before replying.

"We already are."

"What?" Harry questions, voice small.

"Enemies that invade each other's space," Louis rubs the tip of his nose against Harry's to confirm his point.

"No, I mean..." Harry shakes his head. "Nevermind, just...lay with me. I'm tired."

"How 'bout we have dinner first?" Louis offers.

"Yesterday's leftovers?"

"What d'you have?"

"Vegan Chinese."

"Of course you'd have vegan Chinese. That'll do."

➸  

Dinner's just a span of time filled with little glances. They don't talk but it's not awkward. They're too consumed with their thoughts to realise if it is.

They fall asleep that way too, spooning and in complete silence, nothing but their breaths to aid the quietness. The only other mere sound there is is Harry muttering a, _"night,_ " and then rubbing at Louis' stomach and repeating it to Louis' baby.

Louis' heart doesn't flutter at that. It doesn't.

It's around four in the morning when Louis finds himself stirring awake to the ringing of his phone. He slips out of bed, answering the call and leaving Harry's bedroom quietly, the man still snoozing away.

"Hi, mum," Louis greets groggily.

_"Hiya, baby. Sorry for waking you up."_

"Nah, that's okay," he makes his way over to the living room, curling up on the couch.

He ignores all of yesterday evening's events flooding his memory.

"What's up?"

_"Just wanted to know if you're flying over here for Christmas? You haven't responded to my texts."_

"Oh," Louis replies guiltily. "Sorry, just, had a rough evening. A rough handful of months, actually."

_"Speak to me, darling."_

"No, it's okay..." Louis squirms in his place, not wanting to talk about anything.

_"Louis, you don't speak to me anymore. I'm just as confused as the rest of the world. What's going on?"_

"Mum, it's okay, really."

 _"Don't shut your own mother out, Louis,"_ Johannah states, offended and upset.

Louis sighs, defeated.

"I have to tell you something."

It's a mere whisper, but the phone picks it up and Johannah hears it clearly.

_"What, darling?"_

Louis can feel his throat start to tighten as his thoughts invade all the memories from the past half a year. All the moments that have lead up to this one where he's about to tell his mum the solid truth. He starts to sniffle, and his voice cracks as he starts to speak.

"I've lied..."

_"You've...lied?"_

"About the baby."

" _Honey, the whole world knows it isn't Nick's-"_

"No, about me not knowing who the father is."

There's the sound of shuffling on the other side of the line and the moment of words being lacked makes Louis' anxiety grow.

 _"Wh-Who's the father?"_ Johannah asks uneasily.

This is it.

_Dear Lord..._

"It's Harry."

There's a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line followed by a distressing long moment of silence. He doesn't know if his mum is appalled, or accepting of his choice of father or both at once, but she's definitely shocked out of her skin, he knows that.

Louis feels like he's being driven mental with the lack of reply, so he taps on his phone purposely, hoping the random noise will evoke a response in her. It doesn't, but some time after he's finally getting one.

_"You need to tell him."_

"No, no, no-" he panics.

_"You have to."_

"No, I-I can't, because if- if I do, he will never leave me alone. He will- he will be there for his kid a-and I can't have him around me like that. I will _fall_ for him, mum. He's already in love with me, and it just can't get any worse than that. I refuse. I refuse to fall love with him back. I just can't tell him the truth. Months ago my excuse was that I hate him and it would have been degrading if everyone found out I was having a baby with the man I hate. Now I'm just scared, mum."

_"To fall in love with someone who's already in love with you?"_

"To let go."

_"Of what?"_

"The hate," he confesses.

_"Why do you need it?"_

"It makes me feel strong."

_"And without it?"_

Louis laughs pathetically to himself.

"I'd be that nineteen year old who couldn't stop himself from being whisked away into the arms of this guy who, little did I know, would leave me pregnant. I was stupid to be so careless and let that happen. Without the hate, I'll be careless again."

_"I think you lost your grip on the hate six months ago."_

"I-I...It wasn't meant to happen, we just had this scene thrust at us and it-it was the first time we kissed since the Winter ball a-and I lost it, I know, but it was one time."

_"And it left you with his child, Louis. If you had a grip on the hate, you would have aborted when you were supposed to, even though I would have heavily disagreed with it. But you didn't, no, because deep down you love him back too."_

"I-"

No. He doesn't. Not one bloody bit.

_"You love him back too, Louis."_

"No..."

_"Actions speak louder than words."_

"I h-hate him."

_"You don't sound positive."_

"That's...that's because you're confusing me, mum!"

Louis can feel himself being broken down, revealed, picked on, pulled apart, un-layered - you name it. And he doesn't like it, not one bit.

_"No, it's because you're having second thoughts about what I've just said, because deep down you know it's true._ _Because you know that you don't truly hate Harry, and even if you really did before, you don't anymore."_

"That's...that's not true."

_"Let go of the hate, Louis. You're only going to mess up your child's life because of it."_

"I...I think I already have..." he speaks guiltily.

_"What do you mean?"_

"I-I visited Dr. Mills once and he told me the baby's heartbeat was too weak...and it's all because I was drinking because I couldn't deal with- with the truth..."

 _"Oh,"_ his mum is shocked, but that's a wild understatement _. "M-Most babies end up fine, don't- don't worry-"_

"I don't think he will..."

_"He?"_

"Yeah..." the blue eyed boy thumbs at his stomach, smiling slightly. "I think it's a boy."

His mum beams despite her son not being able to see her and lets out a sound of sheer amazement.

_"Wow, that's incredible, Lou. Definitely not from our side of the family."_

"Yeah..." Louis lets out a barely there laugh.

Then the silence falls again. Louis knows his mum is just processing every single thing he's just admitted to and told her, but the silence lets his thoughts scream their loudest so he's thankful when she starts to speak again, although it's in a light, sincere voice.

_"It will be okay. Everything will be okay..."_

"I hope so..." He can't help but tear up again, having no control over his cries. His voice wavers. "God, I hope so..."

_"Oh, no, baby, don't cry. It's alright, darling."_

"No, it's not! I don't know what I'm doing anymore, mum! I-I don't know how to be a parent! I don't know how to raise a baby! I don't know anything a-and I can't do this alone!"

_"Hey, it's gonna be just fine, little one. I will always be here for you, you know that. You're not alone."_

"Mum, you're halfway across the world!"

_"But a phone call away, and I will drop everything over here just to go and spend time with you, you know that, baby. And you're gonna have Harry because you're gonna tell him, darling. You have to tell him."_

"I can't," he shakes his head violently even though his mum can't see him and he grips at his borrowed old tee from Harry. He's freezing with the December coldness outside but he's too overwhelmed and worked up to do anything about it.

_"Yes, you can, Lou."_

"I can't..."

_"But you have to."_

"I know, it's just... I'm not ready to face him."

He lowers his voice.

"Mum, I'm at his house right now because...because both his child and it's mother went into emergency labour yesterday and the whole pregnancy was a fail and he's just had _two deaths_ plastered on him and I don't think he's ready either..." He gets it out all in one breath leaving him panting.

His mum is processing again, if the complete lack of response is anything to go by.

"Mum, he's going to be burying his _child_ ," Louis trembles, heart crying out for Harry because getting the sentence out alone is unbearable, he can only imagine what it will feel like when Harry _does_ the sentence. "It's _too much."_

There's that silence and sheer lack of response again...

"I can't tell him because everything is just _too complicated,_ mum," his voice breaks at the end hopelessly. "Nothing makes sense anymore... I just- I just wish things were simpler. I wish he'd never knocked up someone else before me. I wish I would never have been next."

Louis cries silently, hot tears falling, and shakes his head in shame and regret. He's a river.

 _"Everything happens for a reason, honey,"_ Johannah finally speaks.

 _"Maybe that was God's plan. Maybe Harry was meant to be careless twice. Maybe you and Harry and your baby are the ones who are meant to be, and the only way for you to see that is to see what you'd be losing if you don't make the right decision. Maybe that's why Harry, God bless his soul, is going to be burying a child_ _-_ _his_ _child,"_ she sniffles, words battling to get out her mouth in one piece from the horror of it.

_"So that you can see that by making the wrong decision, Louis, you can lose your child, and you can lose yourself. Maybe it is that simple."_

Louis is quiet. The tables have turned.

_"Please make the right decision, and tell him. Give it some time, but tell him."_

He sniffles.

_"And come home, baby. I miss you. Come spend Christmas with me."_

"I will, mum," he replies in a whisper, body unable to speak any louder. "I love you."

_"I love you too, darling, so much. Everything will be okay. Okay?"_

"O-Okay..."

_"Now get some sleep, baby. Rest. The world isn't going anywhere without you."_

"Okay...bye ma."

_"Bye, sweetie."_

Then the line goes dead, and all he can hear is the washing of the waves outside, tide up, and then he's falling asleep, cold.

Lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sit back down and shhhhhh IT'S COMING. THE TRUTH IS COMING. HEHEHHEHE STICK AROUND FOR CHAPTER 10. YOU MUST.
> 
> Thank you for the amazing comments and response overall, it's incredible <3
> 
> Connect with me on insta: @harrymarriedin and visit me on wattpad: @Britished if you wanna read SULK offline. 
> 
> I am about to do a really stupid thing because I'm 69.69% shitty with update times and I'm already working on two fics but I'm gonna start a new fic in progress that's a high school au with a crossdresser Louis so holla me if you want the deets before it comes out ahahah 
> 
> MUCH LOVE .xx


	10. Everything Unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!! Here it is :D 
> 
> Shoutout to Larriegal cause you're so sweet and I love Blue Ice <3
> 
> I'm gonna be starting college in under a month so I have no idea what updates will be like but as soon as I get my schedule, I will update you loves.
> 
> Imma keep it short. Keep the lovely comments coming! I love you all .x
> 
> Here is the very special chapter 10 xD 
> 
> Just a little warning: there's a medical emergency in here. I won't say what because I don't want to ruin it but all you should know is Harry ain't going anywhere. DON'T WORRY.
> 
> ENJOY :)

Harry's cold when he wakes up. The sheets have been strewn across to the end of his bed by his feet in the numbing nightmare he's had. The place beside him is empty, and he figures he would have woken up cold even with the sheets on him because Louis is not there.

There's a silence. The kind of silence you sit in knowing the world has come to a stop with you too, and it feels like all the hustle and bustle in the cities have just paused in its play. All but the waves that continue to crash to the shore, but even then, the sounds are muted and it's as if the sea isn't moving either. Everything is just...

Still.

Harry's mind is still. It should be pulsing with mourn, it should be swelling with pain, but instead his thoughts are silenced. He's just blank.

When he steps out of bed and into his bathroom, he's blank. Staring into the mirror is nothing but looking into a void box. When the glass steams up from the hot shower he takes, Harry should be glad that he doesn't have to be looking into nothingness, but he doesn't feel any kind of emotion at all.

When he enters his living room after stirring a cup of tea, he knows Louis' just left if the faint warmth radiating off his sofa is anything to go by. The Harry yesterday would mope about the fact Louis (the person he supposedly hates yet is in love with) is gone. The Harry today only picks up the single note left on his coffee table with terribly written letters and reads it emotionlessly.

_Everything will be okay._  
_-Louis._

Harry crumbles up the sheet of paper in his hand and flings it across his living room. The action causes his tea to spill on his hand a little bit and trickle down his arm. It's still piping hot and burns him on impact, but he's so numb he barely feels it. He simply wipes the spilt tea off with a cloth from his kitchen and proceeds to answer his blaring phone on the marble counter.

"You got nerve contacting me."

_"Don't be so raw, Harry. We were mates before that conniving cunt entered your life."_

The twitch in his fingers signal his need to clench them tightly. He flares his nose but maintains a straight, monotonous face as he responds to Nick. "What do you want?"

_"A coffee date."_

The green eyed man scoffs, slamming the tea cup down on the counter carelessly. Its contents spill over the top for the second time and so far, more tea has gone to waste than it has to use.

"You take me for a fool."

_"I'd like to sit with you at nine and sip on a flat white. A casual meet before I fly off to Ireland for the Christmas."_

"I am in no mood for a pathetic coffee date. "

_"I am dearly offended. What has changed? You don't speak with tonic anymore. Where's that nippy freshness that only the great Harry Styles can wear to a T?"_

Harry grunts low in his throat, vision blurred as he zones out. There's a chill that runs through his body, ghostly and insulting, like it knows he's not okay and is trying to pry the tears out of him through the viscid toffee layers of stoic he forms as a guard.

"I am still the same."

_"You don't sound it. When I see you in half an hour, I doubt you will look it."_

"How do you expect me to get into the city in half an hour?"

_"I don't. I expect you to Uber your ass to the Starbucks on the coast. I am in your ends specifically so that if you dare bail on me, I will be at your door quicker than you can lock it. Don't you dare bunny hop to the next city in attempt to get away from me either. We need to talk."_

_➸_

"I ordered a caramel macchiato and a chocolate swirl for you."

Harry pushes down the woolly scarf covering his mouth, rubbing at his tinted red nose, and shrugs off his overcoat as he comes to sit down at the two person table. "Thanks but, too much sugar makes me feel sick."

Nick ignores him, sliding the drink and small plate over to him. "You don't look too sweet. You need some sugar."

Harry gives a small smile, wrapping his hands around his cup to warm them. "It's cold out," he takes a sip of his hot drink.

"Very," Nick mimics his action. "It's a burst of winter breezing over from the East. It's swirling over from the northern places. We're getting the tail end of it for the next week or so."

"Doesn't feel like LA. It's too cold," Harry presses his warmer hands to his freezing face, easing up his body with the feeling. "Feels like Ireland."

Nick snorts, laughing as he takes another sip of his flat white. "Believe it or not, Ireland is a couple degrees warmer right now."

Harry hums in response, downing half his drink despite the liquid being scorching hot. He'll worry about a sandpaper tongue later. "It's colder on the coast 'cause it's all open space and everything."

"Mm, definitely," Nick agrees, aiming to take a bite out of his Swedish bun before halting his movement. "Why are you not at work?"

The green eyed man darts his eyes to the table, hoping it is a good enough indicator that he doesn't want to answer, but he looks up and Nick is waiting patiently for his response, chewing on his treat. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, c'mon, H. It's not good to keep things in."

Harry bites down on his chocolate swirl, stuffing his mouth in another attempt to dodge answering. Nick raises an eyebrow and stretches over the table to lightly knock him on the cheek with the back of his hand.

"Oi, don't stuff your mouth. We're in public."

The curly headed lad shrugs his shoulders, grimacing as he tries to swallow the food all in one go. When he just about does, he sips on his hot drink to wash it down properly. "Yes, we are, which is why I do not want to discuss why I am not at work. There will be speculation on every twitter fan account tomorrow. Help yourself in choosing your favourite theory."

Nick deadpans him as he leans back in his seat, adamantly waiting for the actor to break and spill his cause, but he doesn't.

"Besides, I don't need to share my problems with you."

Nick flinches, a hard gaze on the man. "What did I do to receive such bitterness from you?"

Harry looks up, the first bit of sheer amusement on his face since the day has started. "Nick, you got yourself fired because you couldn't keep your mouth shut. That's not the Nick I remember because it's the Nick I never got to know."

He slides his cup to the side to lean forward and lower his voice, aware of the many people bustling in the café and the risk of talking about personal issues in public.

"I understand Louis pulled one on you but you've always been level headed. You've always been calm and understanding. You've always listened, but instead you went ballistic. Yes, what he did was wrong, but how would it have looked to the public if such a _high level actor_ like him couldn't even tell them who the father of his child was. He needed you, Nick, and yes he should have told you, but it's not the easiest thing to tell someone you're bloody pregnant. He needed you and you grew spikes on your tongue."

Harry shakes his head and leans back in his chair, grabbing his cup and taking a sip. When he places it back on the table, he finally answers the question simply. "So, what did you do to deserve such bitterness from me? You weren't there for Louis when he needed you."

There's a twisted look on Nick's face, a mix of disbelief, sarcasm, and humour. He scoffs. "So it's true?"

"What?"

"You love him."

Harry snaps his head to the side, eyes bulging and fearful of the fact that someone could be listening, or that out of the many people staring at the two of them, someone could be recording their conversation only to enhance the audio later on and blow his cover.

"Excuse me?"

"You love him. There was some _actual_ truth to Lottie's statement. Correct me if I'm wrong, but my mind is settled. You love him and I know because Harry Styles would never defend the person he hates."

The green eyed lad's mouth gapes open, face paling up. He gulps back the lump forming in his throat and darts his eyes to his nearly finished macchiato, not daring at all to look at Nick.

"Let alone grow a bone of utter hate towards me. You can't even greet me with a _hello_ over the phone. Just a _you got nerve."_

Harry breathes out heavily. "What, do you want me to apologise?"

"I want you to know how foolish it is of you to love someone like him."

"Excuse me?" Harry finally looks up, bottom lip quivering against his whole will. His friend of seven years doesn't agree with something that he can't control, and whilst he's not spoken to Nick because of what he did, at the end of the day, he's known Nick longer than Louis.

"You are stupid for falling in love with him, Harry. He does not love you back."

Harry can't help the tears that gather up in his eyes threatening to fall. "You don't...you don't know that."

Nick snorts, pushing his chair back. "When you love someone, you don't hide things from them."

"He isn't hiding anything," Harry grips onto his macchiato, feeling as if his angry hold could shatter the cup.

Nick proves Harry's statement wrong as he reaches into his bag to pull out a piece of paper folded four times. He flings it across the table to Harry, unbothered by the small drop of coffee from his spoon that stains the paper.

"What's that?"

The other man inhales deeply for what appears to be a long description but only ends up being a two worded reply. "A letter."

Harry eyes the piece of paper, confused and angry and hurt and so overwhelmed from everything. He doesn't need another piece of bad fortune being flung his way. "From who?"

"The person you 'love.'"

The curly headed lad doesn't dare pinch at the paper yet, doesn't even brush a finger on it. He'd rather pry whatever bad luck the paper is carrying out of Nick himself than read it whilst the man looks at him sympathetically. _What the hell is it about?_

"Where did you find it?"

"Folded up and dusty in the corner of the coat closet on set. I found it when I was leaving and I took back a coat I had left there for months. It must of fallen out of his coat pocket at some point. With the amount of dust that was on it, I reckon it had been there for a couple of months."

Harry merely nods, another chill running through his body, like it knows what's in the letter and it's warning him that it's not good. There's only one question he has left before he can find it in his gut to unfold the paper and read it.

"What's it about?"

"Everything unsaid."

_Dear Shitbag,_

_I'm sorry._

_I never thought I'd be apologising to you, you're probably smirking right now. Why am I apologising?_ _I lied. I want you to know why._

_I hate you, but you act like you love me. You're an asshole, but you care. You drive me insane, but I can't stay mad at you for anything._

_I lied because we're meant to hate each other._

_I lied because the thought of you sticking around for the rest of my life scares me, because, we're meant to want to rip each other's limbs off, we're meant to want to strangle each other by the throat, but instead... We fuck. We kiss. We hug. We lay in the same bed together and you wrap your arms around me and hold me tight._

_I lied about who the father of my child is..._

_It's you._

_So yeah... I'm not good at apologies which is why I've put this in a letter. I know there's no right excuse to have kept this from you, but that's what I do._

_Anyway. I hate you._

_Hate, Louis._

And it all falls into place.

➸

"Hey, H."

There's a harsh white light blinding Harry as he forces his eyes open despite his eyelids feeling terribly weighed down. When he blinks his vision clear, he takes in the sight of his finger clipped in an oximeter, his torso clad in a hospital gown and the sheets over his legs tucking him in warmly. There's the sound of a heart monitor beeping. He looks beside the hospital bed to see Zayn smiling gently at him, accompanied by Gigi and Lottie.

"How are you feeling?" Lottie asks, gripping onto his hand lightly.

Harry attempts to speak, but his throat doesn't let him, nothing but a strained, groggy and incoherent mumble being heard. He frowns, eyes looking around the room.

"I'll get him some water," Gigi offers earnestly as she grips onto Lottie. "Come with me, Lots. Let Zayn speak to him."

Lottie shakes her head, nothing but a worried look on her face. Zayn smiles sweetly at her, ruffling her hair a bit. "He'll be fine."

That's almost enough to settle her worry down a bit, but she's still evidently concerned as she leaves the room with Gigi. Zayn turns to the green eyed lad and runs his fingers through his curly locks, pushing the hair out of his face. Harry closes his eyes at the comforting touch, almost mewling.

The dark haired lad frowns, taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed. "You're not doing well."

Harry looks up at Zayn, eyes large and childlike but emerald green dull and tired. Harry wants to speak, but it's a struggle, so he lets Zayn talk to him and receive nothing but the rub of his head under his hand, revelling his touch.

"Nick had to leave for his flight. He left this," there's the same piece of paper folded four times in between Zayn's index finger and middle. The same piece of paper that is the last thing Harry remembers before waking up here.

The paper is gently slotted into his hand, and he grips onto it loosely. There's a moment of silence that follows suit and then a soft knock on the door with the entering of a female doctor. He doesn't trust any doctor apart from Dr. Mills, and the change is an impact to his already unstable mind and he's left unwillingly shaking under Zayn's hand. Zayn hugs him around the face, offering a larger surface area of comfort.

"It's okay, H."

"Hello, Harry," the doctor greets sweetly, clipboard in hand. "I'm Dr. Blanchard. I know you usually have Dr. Mills but he's just with another patient at the moment and asked me to fill you in. I hope that's okay."

Harry frailly nods, looking away and exhaling loudly. His chest hurts at the action and he's left clutching onto his hospital gown.

"You had a heart attack this morning."

Harry snaps his head up to the doctor, shocked. He clears his throat and manages to just about croak out, " _heart attack?_ "

"Yes, alarmingly. You've been resting for seven hours, you should rest some more when I leave," she looks down at her clipboard and then back up at Harry. "The reason for the heart attack is Coronary Heart Disease. You have high blood pressure from stress, and potentially a lack of sleep. The high blood pressure is also caused partially by your genetic factors. All of this together has lead to the Coronary Heart Disease which has been developing for a very long time now," she pauses, letting Harry soak it all in.

He looks like he's seen a ghost, his hands starting to tremble. The most Zayn can do is hold his hands down and continue looking lovingly at his best mate, offering all the silent comfort he can.

"Dr. Mills' assumption is that you've been largely stressed lately which is the reason why your heart had an attack. We're going to hold you for a few days and it's extremely vital that when we discharge you, you visit regularly for check ups so we can record progress on the lowering of your blood pressure. Please rest for now."

Then she leaves, and Harry is left with nothing but the pounding in his head, the pain in his chest and the spine-chilling thought that _everything is going wrong._

"Where's- Where's Louis?" Harry starts to breath heavily, attempting to lift himself up but Zayn is preventing him by holding him down.

"H, he's gone... Lie down."

The green eyed lad furrows his eyebrows and struggles under Zayn's hold. "What do you mean 'gone'?" He knocks Zayn's hand off his arm, only for it to come and rest on his shoulder. He fights until he's feeling weak and tired ten seconds later, and Zayn in giving him a look of _that's why I said lie down._

"He left LA."

"No, no-" Harry starts to struggle again.

"H, he's gone. He's going to be in London in three hours, give or take."

"No. No, no, no!"

"Harry!"

The curly headed lad falls back against the bed, his chest starting to heave as his body is attacked with sobs. He clutches tightly onto the piece of paper, holding it to his lips, tears wetting it. Then Zayn is holding his head to his chest and he's soaking the material of his shirt.

"Hey. Hey, don't cry. He'll be back."

"I- I need to see him, Zayn! I need to-"

"Right now you need to rest. Your heart rate is going up. Calm down, H, you can call him later."

Harry shakes his head violently. "N-No, I have to _see_ him- now."

"You will, but when you feel better and they let you out in a few days. We'll all be on break and you can take a red eye flight to London, yeah? Shh, it's okay, Harry, it's okay," Zayn rocks him, once again combing back his curls.

Harry does nothing but sob and keep the paper against his skin. When Lottie and Gigi come back with a glass of water and rush to his side to comfort him, he cries even more, because Lottie has the same blue eyes as Louis and Gigi's frame is just as small as his, and all he wants is to be with Louis.

Five years ago when he met him, he never thought this would happen. That he'd be crying out for him, stuck in a hospital bed helpless, clutching the only piece of him that he has left. He wonders what Louis is doing, if his face is stuffed behind a book to pass the time on his flight, and he wants to laugh, because the last time the blue eyed actor picked up a book was months ago. He's only able to sputter out a painful cry instead, his cheeks carmine and hot.

Harry's never felt so empty.

From one thing being taken from him to another, his children and the truth - he's never felt so meaningless. Like he was put on this Earth and given everything and all to have it ripped away from him like the hinges off a door. He's never felt so cold, bare, even with the warmth of the people surrounding his hospital bed.

But he's never felt like he's had such purpose before. Purpose to leave everyone. Purpose to fuck it all. Purpose to _run,_ and run and run until he doesn't feel the pain in his chest anymore because all he can feel is _Louis._

Purpose to be.

He starts to smile through his tears. _Relief_. Laugh through his cries. _Happiness._ Until he's coaxed to sleep. _Peace._

When he wakes up, it'll be another life.

➸

"Mum."

"Louis."

He's never missed her so much, has never gone so long without her that when he draws his suitcase to a stop in Terminal B, he drops everything and lets her run to him and engulf him in a warm hug, one that's looser than he prefers because of his stomach in the way.

It's the first time she's seeing it, not through pap snaps or fan grainy quality slips, and she can't help but greet his stomach straight after him. His right side is then enveloped by arms, Phoebe's, and he feels so overwhelmingly loved.

"Oh, I just want my grandson to make his way out of there already," Johannah stresses, looking at her son excitedly, filled with a lack of patience.

The blue eyed boy chuckles, kissing her on the forehead. "I missed you, ma."

"I missed you too, baby," she plants a kiss on his cheek. "He's going to be so beautiful."

"I wonder what colour his eyes will be?" Phoebe pipes in. "Do you think he'll be an actor like you, Lou?"

"Hey," Louis pokes her on the cheek, "don't get ahead of yourself, Fee. He can't even talk yet."

"I think his eyes will be blue."

"Mum, don't encourage her, before she gets her hopes up and his eyes turn out green."

"Green? I thought Nick's eyes were brown?"

Louis looks down at his baby sister, then to his mum hesitantly. Then he swallows the concern down, because it's his little sister and he can trust her. He cups her face, holding her cheeks, and quietens his voice.

"Can you keep a secret, Fee?"

She nods, earrings dangling. "Of course, Lou."

"Nick is not his dad."

"It's Harry, ain't it?"

Louis raises an eyebrow, his sister smirking. "How'd you know?"

"You wouldn't be stupid enough to have a baby with anyone but Harry. You love him. It's obvious."

Louis chokes on his spit, dropping his hands to his sides. "I don't..."

"Sure," Phoebe laughs.

"Uh, so where's the rest of these munchkins?" Louis spins Phoebe around, wrapping an arm playfully around her neck in a headlock as he looks to his mum.

"In our cabin in the woods. It's safer to get you out of here with only two of us - the airport entrance is swarmed with paparazzi, more than usual and it's night."

"Well," he lets out a breath of air, grabbing his suitcase, Phoebe slinging his backpack over her shoulder. "The only important thing that has happened is me getting my ass out of LA, so maybe you're seeing doubles," he lightly insults.

"About time," Phoebe whacks him playfully. "I'd never forgive you if you missed Christmas with us this year."

"I wouldn't forgive myself either," he pats her on the head. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

"Put this on," Johannah flings a thick coat and a scarf to him. "I knew you'd get on your flight half wrapped up."

He does as he's told, slipping into the coat and wrapping the scarf around his neck. "Since when does it snow this early into winter in Britain anyway?" He looks afar, through the airport windows where everything outside is covered in white, all except for the runway that's lit up with lights. The night is equipped with flakes of snow that continue to fall in a light blizzard.

"It doesn't. This year is special."

Louis hums, taking in the sight outside, only able to see a third of the runway before the rest of it fades into darkness. "Yeah...something like that."

His mum takes the suitcase handle from him. He doesn't put up a fight.

"What are you thinking about?" Johannah asks softly, a gentle smile on her face.

"Not thinking," he mumbles out. "Taking everything in."

She nods, rubbing his arm soothingly. "Come on, let's go."

He inhales deeply, grabs onto Phoebe's hand and they leave. He gets flakes of snow on his hair when they reach outside and by the time they're in the car, he's shivering, but he's good. He's okay. He feels like he can breath better, just being in a different place.

He doesn't feel guilty for leaving Harry at such a hard point in his life, because they need their space. It's what's best for the both of them.

To just breath.

And he falls asleep like that. Breathing. Head on the seatbelt, legs folded on the car seat and a hand on his stomach.

He doesn't wake up until his body feels the engine of the car switch off and they're in the middle of the woods, in the middle of silence.

He blinks open his eyes to the dim lights inside the car on, his mum eyeing him quietly. He tilts his head in confusion, then his sister is leaning forward from the back seats, gently placing her phone in his hand. They exchange nothing but silence, and it speaks loud enough to tell him that something bad has happened.

He looks down at his sister's phone, scans the countless tweets, never-ending. The pictures, the person in the pictures, the horrified look on his face and the captions answer Louis' question.

His breath is hitching in his throat as he scrambles to fish his own phone out of his pocket, to unlock it and to dial the one number that was never meant to be in his recents.

No one picks up. He rings again.

Then there's a voice, not _his,_ but speaking, going to give him an answer. Just as his stomach flutters, his baby _kicks,_ and his breath is hitching in his throat again. _Is daddy okay?_

_"Hey, Lou-"_

"Please tell me he's okay."

_"He's okay."_

His drawn out breath of relief settles his mum and his sister's stomachs, the tense atmosphere in the car loosening up. He's relieved. Glad. _Breathing again._

"Zayn, I need you to tell him something."

_"What?"_

"Tell him... He's not allowed to die on me. Tell him to listen to the doctors because I..."

Zayn already knows what he wants to say, and Louis could leave it at that, but he has to say it out loud, admit it, before the worst happens, because life is too short.

Harry could leave him at any time.

"Tell him to listen to them because I don't know how I'd live without him."

_"I'll tell him, Lou. He's asleep right now."_

"Yeah...good, and um... Thank you."

_"No worries... I think he'd want me to tell you he loves you."_

He freezes. It's what he needs to hear, but the fact it's what he needs to hear to comfort him is new. He's always battling those words, but now he wants nothing more than to hear it from Harry himself and wrap it up tight in his hold. _Those comforting words._..

"Yeah... Tell him I'll, uh...we'll see each other soon."

_"Yeah, of course... Take care, Lou."_

"You too."

The line goes dead. His head falls back against the car seat. He breathes.

"Come on. Let's go inside."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a very important and special thank you to everyone for all your support ten chapters in. I wish you all the best and have a wonderful day.
> 
> Much love .xx


	11. I Love You Too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I just drank Pepsi. Coco Cola are the dark larries I feel like I've betrayed every larrie.
> 
> Can we just take a moment to appreciate LOUIS' DADDY KINK cause he's always talking about dads and casually saying, "alright, daddy" in interviews like that's actually okay. My feels don't exist no more.
> 
> Omg so this is like the first chapter where shit doesn't go down, damn, like, too much drama a break is needed. BUT SEX ENSUES so hehe it's been like too long and why not, it fits :)
> 
> Enjoy .xx

Louis is woken up to the sound of the fireplace crackling to life, and the quiet shuffling of objects into place. He doesn't open his eyes until what feels like fifteen minutes has passed and there's the sound of a bowl hitting the coffee table. He opens his eyes to see his mother proceeding to tidy up the living room, and he's been wrapped in numerous blankets.

Thinking back to the night before, after the flight, after the phone call, after _Harry_ , it all just KO'd him on the sofa before he could get to his room. He figures that it is early - other than his mum neatening the books on the shelves, the entire cabin is a ghost.

The best thing about their cabin is that it is simply old. The kind of cabin that is made from rich wood and stone where no electricity surges through the structure and to heat water, it has to be put in a pot and hung over the fireside. The kind of cabin that is lit only by candles, decorated with a stag's head above the window and an old clock with rickety handles that, as Louis squints his eyes to read, ticks past seven.

He groans, feeling his limbs finally waking up to feeling sore - he could do with a good back massage. His mum glances at him mid-dust and sends a warming smile.

"Rise and shine," Johannah jokes lightly, resuming her dusting of the shelves in the room.

It's still dark outside and the blizzard falls much more strongly with winds that howl loudly, and Louis reckons that if he stepped outside, he'd ice over like a popsicle. Light hasn't yet broken through the dark of the night, so he also reckons he'd get kidnapped by a snow monster. He lets out an accidental laugh.

"What?" His mum gives a weirded out half smile.

"Nothing," he sighs as he attempts to get up to the sight of steaming porridge on the wooden coffee table. "Oh, yummy," he grabs a wooden spoon and digs into it, successfully burning his tongue.

Johannah laughs, puts down the duster and takes a seat beside him.

"Silly you," she mumbles, shaking her head. "How much battery does your phone have?"

Louis reaches over to tap at his phone on the table.

"Nineteen."

His mum hisses in through her teeth playfully, wincing.

"Make it last. We're not going into town until Christmas Eve, your lovely birthday."

"You got enough food to last a week?" Louis mumbles around the spoon of porridge, resting the hot wooden bowl over the sheets on his lap.

"Porridge, yes. Meat, no." She beams brightly, "we are going hunting!"

"Classic," Louis playfully rolls his eyes, shoving another spoonful of hot porridge in his mouth. "Count me out. I don't think I'm agile or stealthy enough with this football in me."

"Noted. We are snowed in for the next few days though," she states, resting back on the sofa. "Which means plenty of quality family time. Lottie should be here in five days from Berlin so I hope the snow melts a little."

Louis hums, lets the room fall into a peaceful silence until he breaks it.

"I feel shit."

"Language," Johannah lightly hits him on his arm. "What's wrong?"

The blue eyed boy inhales, taking a moment to filter his words through his mind.

"The baby... He kicked last night, for the first time."

Johannah smiles brightly, a beam of sunshine brighter than the fire burning in the room. No doubt she's excited off her rocket.

"Has 'e got a footballer's kick?"

"No, he kicked like a fucking fairy," Louis jokes, prepared for the second swat at his arm he gets for swearing. "I'm joking. He's been dormant. I'm not surprised his first kick only happened now, but it was like he sensed my fear..." he trails off, staring outside the window and watching the blizzard. "Like he..." he gulps. "Like he knew something wasn't okay with...with Harry."

A gentle hand stretches out to rub at his side comfortingly.

"When are you going to tell him?"

"I... I don't know yet..."

Johannah hums in thought, but doesn't prod at him any further on it.

"So, you feel terrible because your baby must of felt scared too?"

"No," Louis shakes his head slowly, looking down at his porridge in shame. "That I was going to abort him. That kick just reminded me he's a real person. Just 'cause Harry's a flipping asshole of an ogre," he tries to lighten his mood, "doesn't mean that my baby is too. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I feel guilty. I feel like I will spend the rest of my life apologising to my baby about something he will never remember."

Johannah smiles sympathetically, patting at his knee, but knows better than to give him boat loads of sympathy - he doesn't like that.

"Oi, lighten up. It's almost your birthday and Christmas!"

She springs up, almost knocking the bowl of porridge off her son's lap.

"Come, help me clean. You'll be doing a lot of it soon."

Louis groans, scooping a spoonful of porridge into his mouth and talking with his mouth open.

"It's seven in the morning."

"Baby, first, close your mouth and second," she turns to face him, smirking.

"Welcome to parenthood."

➸

His phone dies out that morning, wasted on levels of Toy Blast just to pass the time waiting for the rest of his family to wake up, so he never receives the important call to his phone that evening.

The days go by in a blur and a whiz, and Louis reads through two six hundred page books, one with its hardcover spine limp and about the Great Empire of Macedon, the other called the Epitome of Love and Hate, which he thinks is a load of bullshit but still reads anyway. His sisters and baby brother don't treat him any differently - they still make him tidy up after them despite his bump, and when Lottie arrives five days later, he forgets all about his worries, doesn't even think about Harry despite having his baby in him.

Until it's the night before Christmas Eve, and his sisters, brother and mother are all huddled around the door behind him in shock.

There stands the father of his child, shivering in the flakes of snow, face pale, lips cracking but nevertheless the _father of his child,_ with a look in his eyes that Louis can't quite decipher. But there also stands the person that Louis almost just lost, and he realises the awful reality of his situation. That he needs Harry, always has and always will.

_Fuck._

That's why he can't help but let out the biggest sigh of relief and engulf him in his arms, even in front of his whole sisters and brother, who - apart from Phoebe and Lottie - don't have the up to date version of the way Louis sees Harry, and what Harry means to him.

He hugs Harry with a newfound need. Not for the bickering, not for the arguments, but for the father of his child. He wouldn't know how to tell his child that their father died if Harry wasn't okay, so having physical conformation that he is alive and well (and not just a verbal conformation from Zayn) makes him feel lucky. Like whatever God everyone believes in has given them both a second chance. Louis to do things better and the right way, and Harry to just flat out be a father after having the opportunity ripped from him two times and almost a third.

Yeah, Louis is going to do it the right way, and stop his lying. He just doesn't know how to compromise yet, so instead of blurting out the truth in fear that Harry will drop to the floor in another heart attack before he can, he kisses him.

He gets on the tips of his toes, grabs Harry's freezing cheeks and kisses him. In front of his family. Without a care.

He knows his mum is smiling, Lottie and Phoebe are smirking, Fizzy is flat out confused, Daisy is gagging and Doris and Earnest are mimicking their older sister, but he doesn't care. He forgets they are there and all he can feel is Harry's cold skin under his fingertips, the green eyed man's cold nose nudging against his, and as they draw away, the thin string of saliva between them that Louis has never liked about kisses makes him feel like he's still connected for a mere extra second.

Louis' voice comes out in a whisper that's still heard over the rustling of the forest trees outside and the crackling of the fire from the living room.

"How did you find me?"

Harry keeps his eyes on Louis', breathing steadily and drinking the smaller boy in ever so slowly and bit by bit, like he's sipping on a hot cup of tea. He's still shaking in Louis' arms, but his face remains almost stoic, like he isn't feeling anything, like all he's doing is processing the fact that he almost died and has lived to see Louis again. Like he just can't believe it.

"I will always find you," he responds calmly. "You have my child."

Louis' heart drops to his ass and Fizzy's eyes bulge out of her sockets. The blue eyed boy swallows, opens his mouth to respond, but doesn't know what to say. He goes to deny it, because he wants to admit the truth with his own will, but Harry beats him to it.

"Do not lie to me, I know the truth."

Harry doesn't look angry, doesn't sound it, doesn't look or sound anything apart from empty, like his mind hasn't yet registered that he's here, stood in front of the carrier of his child, the person he loves who also _lied_ to him.

Louis scarcely nods, unsure of what to do or say and lets the taller man shut the door behind himself silently, then he pulls Harry into another hug, one that screams his apology but can't do it justice. He waves his family off as kindly as he can, and takes Harry towards the back of the cabin.

They need to be alone. They need to talk.

When they get to his room, Louis shuts the door and leans on it, watching as the curly headed lad takes a seat on his bed - the room dimly lit by candles.

"How do you know?"

Louis feels like he's treading on ice, feels like any little thing he says will trigger an argument, because he's just hid something so entirely big from Harry, committed a scandal in the public eye just to hide it from him, went to _extreme lengths_ to lie about something he had no right to lie about.

Harry looks up at him, with that same look in his eyes that Louis can't name.

"That doesn't matter," Harry gets out. "What does is that I've been there for a child I thought wasn't mine and then I almost _died_ right after I found out and all I can think about is: I would of lost _months_..." his eyes water up, and he rubs them with the heels of his palms to clear his sight. "All because of you: the person I love."

Louis gulps and dares to sit next to Harry at the foot of his bed. He fishes for a response, but Harry is continuing before he can give one.

"I love you and all you've done is lie to me."

"I was going to-"

"But when?" Harry snaps his head to face him. "I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for Nick, the same person you used. I would have dropped to the floor in my home that you left without a goodbye asides from a useless little letter. No one would have known, and I wouldn't be here."

Louis doesn't feel like he can breath, because the reality has already hit him, but it's hitting him again and like concrete to his face and it's giving him a whiplash.

"Hear that? I wouldn't be here."

The green eyed lad is about to break, Louis can see, but whether it's into tears or a fit or an argument, he doesn't know.

"I wouldn't be here..." he whispers out one last time, pulling Louis onto his lap, legs on both his sides, and hugging him tightly.

"But you are," Louis tries to comfort him, letting himself be handled. "You are."

Harry tucks his head between the smaller boy's chin and shoulder.

"Smells like home," he mumbles. "You don't know how important home is until you almost lose it."

Louis hums, closes his eyes as Harry leans them back on the bed. He trails his hands up and down the blue eyed boy's sides, gently and revelling in the fact that he's here, he's _alive_. He looks up through his eyelashes at Louis, grateful, so incredibly in love, _so incredibly_ _thankful_ to be underneath him. Louis watches him watch him silently, waiting for the curly headed man to make a move.

"I want to feel you," Harry admits, face soft and hands pliant as Louis takes them off his waist and tangles their fingers together.

"No, you don't get to come in here and ask for sex whilst my family is downstairs," he jokes, because it's what he wants, what he really, genuinely wants.

"We'll be quiet," Harry rests his hands on Louis' thighs, rubbing them and never once breaking eye contact.

" _You'll_ be quiet, but you can't speak for me. How do you know I won't-"

The blue eyed boy is pulled down by his wrists, and gently yet in one swift motion finds himself under the green eyed actor. He's lost his breath in the split second it takes for Harry to flip them over, and he regains it when the man is grinding down against him, causing him to gasp.

He lets Harry tangle his fingers in his hair to draw his neck back and nibble at the skin of his jawline. All his senses have heightened with the sensitivity of being pregnant, so he can't stop himself from grinding upwards, yearning for friction and being unbelievably hard already in less than a minute.

"Fine," he pants out, ripping Harry from his neck and capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Part of him wants this to be slow and sweet, but he knows that Harry's got anger pent up in there, and he himself has got a pyramid of guilt, so he lets Harry kick off his boots and tug down his jeans and underwear in a haste, doesn't even try to slow him down. In fact, laughs when he stumbles.

"Don't laugh at me, you asshole."

Louis can't help but laugh even more, and his mouth ends up attacked with a kiss that results in getting his bottom lip harshly bitten at. He deserves it, he figures, as Harry slips a finger in his waistband and drags down his joggers and underwear, flinging them carelessly to the side.

"I missed you like this," Harry confesses, dragging a finger down the curve of Louis' stomach and onto the head of his member. "Spread out and always beneath me."

Louis lets out a breath of air, stuffs back a moan in his throat, spreads his legs and forcefully drags Harry down by his hair until his mouth is flush up against his hole.

"Shh, you talk to much," the blue eyed boy pants, the order being responded to with Harry's lips pecking at his ring of muscle. "Eat me out and hope I forgive you for making me moan like a slut."

Harry looks up, can't see anything but the round of Louis' stomach and his leaking prick. He splays a hand out on Louis' bump, nudging at his hole with his tongue. That alone makes Louis become a writhen mess, and as he slips his tongue in, he's got to shove a large hand in the smaller boy's mouth to muffle the noises he makes.

Louis holds Harry's head firmly against him, has a lack of mercy in letting him breath until he realises he doesn't want to kill the father of his baby and lets go, only to have his wrists pinned down above his head and a panting Harry hovering before him.

"Don't do that, you cunt."

"Sorry," Louis half-assedly responds, eyes drooping shut and a limp smirk playing at his lips. "Forgot I needed you."

Harry scoffs, bringing up two fingers to stuff in Louis' mouth. He nibbles on his cheek before drawing back to watch the person he loves taking his fingers and lathering them up with saliva.

"Don't rile me up."

"You're hot when you're riled up," Louis mumbles around the two thick fingers in his mouth, slipping off them with a wet pop. "Lucky for me, I'm sure you want to fuck the bullshit out of my ass."

Harry grunts, catching his lip between his teeth and rubbing his bare, leaking member against Louis' clothed stomach. He rolls the hem of Louis' shirt up to rub skin on skin, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Want to fuck your heart out."

"In me, not on me, yeah?" Louis pants, eager.

Harry settles his grinding down to lower himself and nudge his fingers at Louis' hole.

"'S so fucking attractive that you're all round and full with my baby," he mumbles, sliding in a ringed finger. "Mine. My baby, not Nick's. Mine."

Louis groans at the intrusion, the possessiveness in Harry's voice and the fact that he's _here,_ a second finger being stuffed in him whilst his family awaits them down the hall. Louis snaps his eyes open at that and drags Harry's head quicker than he can register.

"Get the fuck in me. Now- _shit_. Hurry up, 'fore someone comes looking for us and- _oh!_ "

The green eyed man shoves the same two fingers into Louis' mouth to hush him after stuffing his dick in his ass. The stretch, no doubt, is probably unbearable, but it's Louis and if he wasn't shut up, Harry knows he would express how dearly he loves the feeling of being stretched out.

A statement reminder to Louis that he's there, not about to be in a casket six feet underground.

Louis cries.

Harry freezes in his position, fingers pressing against Louis' lips, and looks him in the eye.

"Have I hurt you?"

The blue eyed boy shakes his head. No, he feels _so_ good.

"Jus' glad you're here..." he admits shamelessly, pulling at Harry's arms for comfort.

"I wouldn't leave you," Harry whispers. "Ever."

"But I-"

Harry fucks into him, rolling his hips and bottoming out with each thrust. Louis clasps a hand over his mouth to strangle his moan, then pants out to finish his sentence.

"-I hurt you."

"Yeah," Harry grunts, falling dangerously close to being overwhelmed by being inside Louis. "You did," he rocks his hips faster, pinning the boy's wrists down and feeling his nude torso rub against Louis' protruding stomach.

There's the not so subtle creaking of the bed that will surely catch them out, but Harry's angry, and Louis' well far gone.

"I'm-" Louis throws his head back, letting out a noise that is indecipherable and as far as Harry can pick apart, a teller that he feels all shades of good and blessed out.

"Fuck, _I'm sorry_."

The apology makes Harry fuck into him unapologetically harder, until there are fingernails digging into his hands that keep the small pair of wrists pinned down.

"Not sorry enough to not do it," he grunts out, and the crazed look on his face drives Louis absolutely and completely insane because it is a look of pure anger and a need to fuck that anger out and the blue eyed boy has never been so turned on before. "Bastard."

"Go- oh- on, let it out- fuck!-"

Harry muffles Louis' mouth with his shoulder as he fucks in and out, mercilessly and hurt - plain, flat out hurt and furious and so, _so_ dearly, because he wants Louis to _feel_ him, not just be touched by him. He has complete control over the smaller boy, something he hadn't had the past half a year over the health of his child.

Oh, if he could go back and slap every glass of alcohol out of Louis' hand...

"Piece of shit- I hate you!"

"That's it, let it all out," Louis pants against Harry's shoulder.

"Selfish bastard, you've stolen the last _six months_ of my life from me!"

"C'mon, fuck me and let it all out. That's it."

Louis knows he's about to find it harder to form coherent sentences because his mind's going all fuzzy and he feels himself peaking over the edge.

"C'mon, for fuck's sake!"

Harry snaps his hips, balls deep and skin glistening with sweat, draws out and slams back in again, grip tighter on Louis' wrists.

"You fuck me up!"

"That's it- _fuck!_ "

"You fucking kill me!"

"C'mon, I'm gonna- gonna come-"

"I hate you so much!"

"I hate you too-" then Louis is cut off with the painfully loud moan that slips out his mouth that's barely muffled by Harry's shoulder. He digs the back of his head into the sheets, body spasming out where he's trying to claim back his wrists but at the same time, loves the feeling of being pinned down and out of control. Having control these past six months ruined a lot.

He's shoved over the edge in such a way he feels like his jaw will click out of place, and he feels like his toes have curled into a permenant position. Then he feels Harry jolt in him, knows he's filling him up when he's already full with his child, and it's the most blissful feeling he's felt.

"I love you."

And hearing Harry murmur that in his ear, panting and rolling his hips until he comes to a stop, enhances the rush of electricy surging through Louis' body that urges him to confess his feelings. The _I love you_ is like a catalyse speeding up his reaction towards Harry feeling him, being _in_ him with all his anger and all his love.

Louis loves him too. So much, that he doesn't think he can admit it, because it's scary. It's all too new, and if someone told him all those years ago that he would love Harry Styles, he would have cried.

Now that he feels it - he cries, and there Harry is in all his sweaty and curly glory as the bedroom clock ticks past eight at night, wiping at his cheeks, hot breath fanning out against his skin. Then he's bringing himself down to kiss Louis, softly, sweetly, then to his stomach to kiss his baby. _His_ baby.

And oh _, Louis is so in love._

With his birthday less than four hours away, he deems it (having Harry here and okay and alive and feeling so _gone_ for him) the best birthday gift he could be given.

Because everything feels okay for once. There are no cameras, no phones on, no connection to the real world. It's just them, hours before Christmas Eve and his birthday, tangled up with each other, and so hopelessly full of love.

"I love you too."

➸

After their bickering of, _"_ _you said you would be quiet and you fucking screamed"_ and _"you were just as bad,"_ they go to the dining room. There's the sharing out of food on the dining table, all of his sisters digging into their meals, Lottie talking with Fizzy about Louise and the two sets of twins talking between each other about various different things.

Louis not so subtly gets the side eye from his mum as he walks in an hour after whisking Harry to his room. It's not really his fault that having a quick after-sex wash isn't so quick when you have to make do with a bowl of cold water and a little soap. She doesn't look angry, though, looks a little relieved and less disturbed than Louis expected.

Lottie looks up at the two and smirks around her fork.

"Never seen you two so happy," she winks, but Louis knows if there's the good chance she heard anything, her eardrums are scarred and she is not as okay as she seems.

"Oi," Johannah flicks the back of her daughter's head, then looks at Louis and Harry who stand awkwardly, cheeks almost concerning shades of red.

"Come on, you two. What are you waiting for?"

➸

It's ten at night when they all finish up around the dining table and huddle up in the living room. The youngest set of twins are nearly dozing off on the couch but the rest of the family are wide awake and awaiting the clock to tick by twelve.

It's a tradition to hold out until the minute Louis' birthday starts, piling his presents away from the piles by the Christmas tree which is solely lit up by lights requiring batteries. It's also tradition to snack on Biscoff biscuits and Cadbury chocolate bars that Louis wants to steer away from because he feels like a wrecking ball but only ends up eating twice as much of compared to the ideal amount he should do.

They spend over a hour talking as a family about pointless little things like Lottie's manicure, or the fella she met on her trip to Berlin, or the teacher Fizzy flipped off at school before the break, or Harry's hair, which is far from pointless. The green eyed actor has minimal input in their conversations, keeping Louis close in an embrace, silently praying for the best and thanking the Lord for being able to be here.

The only time he really speaks is when the clock has ticked past half eleven, to say something that leaves everyone raising their eyebrows in confusion, everyone apart from Louis who thinks back to Paris and smiles widely.

"Let's move the furniture."

Johannah laughs lightly, "nothing has been moved in over a century according to my grandma. The dust underneath will be never ending. May I ask why?"

Harry goes to answer but Louis is beating him to it, with an almighty struggle in getting up and then pulling the curly headed lad up as well.

"To dance."

"How romantic," Lottie clasps a hand over her heart dramatically but nevertheless gets up and starts to drag the coffee table out of the way.

"Eh?" Fizzy tilts her head. "How are we gonna listen to music? Our phones are dead."

Harry smirks, taking his phone out of his back pocket and switching it on. The room is filled with Oasis' _Go Let It Out,_ and just as Louis' stupidly attempting to push the couch with his football sized stomach weighing him down and in the way, he's pulled away by Daisy and Phoebe, twirled into Harry's arms and ends up falling into a fit of laughter.

Johannah smiles, happy to see that things are okay for her son, for once. Glad that Harry knows the truth. Euphoric, as Lottie helps her move the sofas, that her grandson's father is here in this moment. Just as glad as her son that he is alive and well. And so, so thankful.

Because as the clock ticks past twelve and Louis is bombarded with _happy birthday's_ and warm hugs and a ton of gifts _,_ she gets to watch him look into the pair of green eyes belonging to the person who chose to be there for a child he thought wasn't his out of pure care, and she gets to watch her son kiss a man she much rather prefers than Nick.

She's allowed to admit that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh didn't even realise I forgot Dan oops (hi).
> 
> It's results day tomorrow I hope my ass passed, feck, shet, crap.
> 
> Ty for the awesome ass support.
> 
> Much love .xx


	12. Genesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lived in London my entire life and I don't at all think there are phone charging lockers bang smack in the middle of Oxford street. Guys, don't slam me, I've kept this as real as possible so far so shhh. Also, I got into the college I wanted and received the grades I needed so I've felt super inspired to type up another 4000+ words to update and this beauty came out.
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter, it is literally cuteness and heartbreak at its most .xx

"I have never seen the public give so little of a damn about us."

White clouds form in the cold air with every word Harry speaks as they trod agonisingly slowly (for Louis' sisters) onto Oxford street. It is incredibly early, traditionally, as they intend to purchase from the early stock before all the Christmas junkies shopping for their Christmas dinners nick the best turkeys.

The street is already crawling with high spirited people, and it is only eight in the morning. Loads with bags that imply they are getting in those last minute gifts, and every handful of people with steaming Starbucks Christmas specials to warm them up. Louis could do with a good gingerbread latte, because the thick scarf covering his chin and bottom lip, the fluffy pair of gloves on his hands and the Christmas beanie covering his head isn't keeping him sufficiently warm.

Then there's Harry, with the same clothes he wore yesterday, suitcase-less because he couldn't damn think straight. At least Louis lended him a scarf, beanie and a flipping pair of underwear too, but they're going to have to stop at a store to carry him through until they are due back in LA. Louis doesn't see Harry running back home any time soon.

_That's 'cause he already is._

"Well that's 'cause the turkeys have better legs than us and the glazed over Christmas cookies are sweeter," Louis replies.

The lot of them approach a Tesco, but Louis trails behind, coming to a stop and facing his family.

"Harry and I are going to walk further down and get all our phones charged. Load me up, sisters," he puts his hand out, receiving four phones and his mother's on top. He hands Harry half, then turns to his mum.

"Mum, I will be rating you depending on the turkey you get us."

Johannah rolls her eyes, both her hands occupied by Doris' and Earnest's.

"I will drink a glass of champagne in front of your face if you dare rate me anything below seven. I'll see you later darling," she pecks a kiss on Louis' cheek just as he rolls his eyes at her statement. "See you in a bit, Harry."

They wave the family off and then resume their walking, quiet and breathing in the cool air. None of the two comment on the way their elbows brush as they walk, and they don't mention the fact that, actually, there are a ton of people gawking at them. Harry's first to break the silence.

"May I ask you a question?"

Louis looks up, focusing his sight on Harry.

"Shoot."

Harry drags the underside of his tongue over his bottom lip to moisturise it, then tucks it back into his mouth to swallow.

"What are we?"

Louis half expects the question, because Harry wouldn't just forget last night like that.

"You asked me that already, and I answered with 'enemies that invade each other's space.'"

"We are not enemies," Harry opposes him. "I am the father to your child, I do not want you to birth them into a warzone."

"Harry, lying to yourself does not change the truth," Louis responds back, certainly amused as they approach the public phone lockers.

"Do we not love each other?"

The blue eyed boy sighs as he plugs in each phone, taking up about four different lockers and keys.

"Has my baby drunk alcohol?"

Harry just about chokes on his spit.

"Jeez, you could be a little more sensitive, you know. That's my baby you've let drink underage."

Louis snorts, twisting the keys in each of the doors and zipping them up in his coat pocket.

"Oh well," he starts to walk off.

"Hey," Harry grips him on the wrist, spinning him around and frowning. "Why are you being so cold?"

Louis shakes off Harry's hold, looking down at his feet but not being able to escape the flash of hurt across the pair of emerald eyes before him in the process.

"It is cold, no?"

"Don't take the-"

"Harry, I don't want to talk about what we are or the fact that yes, I..." Louis coughs awkwardly, eyes anywhere but Harry's. "That I love you because it's not me, and it's not you. It's not us. It is easier to hate you than to love you."

Harry nods however doesn't accept his answer, "fair enough, but if the moon told the sun that it was easier to hate them, it would make them feel worthless. Yet without the sun, we'd have no light."

"If you think you're the sun, you can shove a stick up your ass."

Harry winces, his mind conjuring up the image without permission.

"No thanks. What I'm trying to say is- hey!"

Louis doesn't class it as rude, the fact that he's begun to walk off again. His mind just isn't wired to survive a serious conversation this early in the morning and he doesn't really like the fact they've been hanging in the same place for so long because they're starting to get attention. _H_ _e really just wants that gingerbread_ _latte..._

"Louis, don't walk off from me."

The brunette rolls his eyes as he continues on, Starbucks in view. He gets further from Harry who refuses to move until there's metres between them and can't hold back anymore.

"Louis, I'm talking to you! You can't just ignore me!"

Louis' patience is running thin, practically nonexistent, and he can't stop himself from turning around and snapping.

"I told you I don't want to fucking talk about us! For fuck's sake, let me just breath! I don't want to talk about something I'm still finding hard to accept and-"

"Hey," Harry grabs his cheeks, and Louis hates the fact that it automatically soothes him and makes him forget the crowd that has started to form around them.

"Hey," the curly headed lad repeats, searching Louis' eyes. "I know, and call me selfish for wanting to know where we stand, but you have to understand. What you admitted last night was something I admitted ages ago, that I love you and believe me, by no means does that change us. I still want to call you asshole and dicklinson, and I still want to fuck you through ten layers of concrete at the same time, but I also want to be with you, because we're..."

Harry pauses, closing his eyes then looking down at Louis hopefully and sincerly.

"We're having a child together and never in my wildest dreams did I think it'd be you that I'd be having a kid with, but it is and I don't want to be that parent my child only gets to see on weekends. I want to be there and yes, that requires commitment, and yes, you hate me, and yes, I hate you-"

Harry stops to breath and flat out compose himself because now he's ranting, and losing his damn mind. Louis' lips are parted, like he's going to reply but has no words lined up. Harry lets out an embarrassing squeak, one that signals his frustration and then he inhales to cool himself down.

"But I love you," he strokes a thumb on the smaller boy's cheek, "and you love me, and just know that when you tell me it is easier to hate me than to love me, you make me feel like I am not worth it. I know I make little sense, but it is Christmas, I am merry and I am in love. I am so, _so_ in love with you, Louis. So tell me you hate me, but tell me you love me more..." Harry trails off, mind at a blank.

Louis just stares at him, frozen in his place, stomach just about brushing at Harry's and his tongue caught between his teeth.

"It is Christmas Eve and it is your birthday and I am sorry if I have spoiled your morning but..."

"You have to accept that it's me you're in love with and that I always take the easy way."

"Not always," Harry looks down at his bump, placing a caring hand on it.

Louis understands what he means just as his stomach starts to twirl and their baby starts to kick left, then at the lowest part of Louis' abdomen, then bang smack on Harry's hand.

The blue eyed boy accepts the fact that Harry now looks like a sappy, in love, tearful idiot in the middle of public. He accepts it because it's the last day before Christmas and the festive season always hypes up everyone's emotions. Any other day, he'd backhand his dimples to Mars.

He figures he can hug Harry into not looking like an embarrassing in love mess, so he wraps his arms around the green eyed man's waist, lets him drop his hands from his cheeks to the back of his neck, and Louis holds him close. Well, as close as they can get with the almost seven month bump between them.

Louis' face ends up stuffed against Harry's collarbone, and this way, he can't see the numerous phones and cameras taking photos of them which is all the better, because he knows he doesn't look as good as he used to, has put on quite a few pounds in fact. _Stupid pregnancy._

"If you don't mind now, I'd like to get a gingerbread latte from Starbucks."

"Ooo," Harry pulls back, grinning. "I want an eggnog latte."

"Move your damn ass then."

➸

When they get around to buying Harry a couple pairs of jeans, sweaters and some underwear, they've pretty much wasted two whole hours smelling candles at the Yankee Candle store (in which Louis only purchases the Cookies and Cream candle) and getting slaughtered by fans willing to lose the best turkeys in order to speak to them and take pictures.

Louis loves meeting fans, but he's all round as hell and alone with Harry and the whole idea makes him squirm. Because, for a fact, the world hasn't seen them for what they are now, hasn't seen the way he's made Harry cry, hasn't heard the _I love you's,_ doesn't know that his sworn enemy is the father of his child. So of course when he's asked, again, if him and Harry are dating, he gets nauseas and bolts off until he finds himself behind a rack of baby clothing as the green eyed actor wonders around the men's section, piling up items in his arms.

He doesn't know what he's doing when he picks up a little onesie (with a small printed bear in the middle) and thumbs at the material. It kinda hits him hard, the fact that in less than three months he'll be having a baby.

God, he never expected that.

"Call of Doody, Brown Ops."

Louis snaps his head up to see Harry on the opposite side of the clothing rack, holding up a onesie with those exact words on it in one hand, his other hand clutching his clothes to his chest.

"No. No no, we are not going to be those parents."

Harry pouts before he seeks out another onesie, smirking as he holds it up.

"My aunt is a bad influence."

"Lottie would light a firework up my ass. Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe wouldn't stop her."

"Made in Vachina."

"Correction, my asshole."

"I'm glad to be out, I was running out of womb."

Louis snorts out a laugh accidentally, then forces himself to look serious again.

"Absolutely not."

The green eyed man groans, putting the hanger back on the rack and roaming his eyes until he spots what he thinks is the perfect onesie, which coincidentally is one with his face on it.

"My beautiful face."

Louis wants to dig the handle of a hanger into his eyeball, but then his mind creates the perfect comeback.

"Absolutely yes so I can replace you with an inanimate version of yourself that can't call me 'asshole'. At least you'll still be there for my baby."

" _Our_ baby."

"Shh," Louis dashes a pair of baby boots across the rack over to the other side, hitting Harry flat in the face. "We are in public."

Harry blinks, "so?"

"No one can know! Asshole!" Louis shouts in a whisper. "We have a reputation to maintain. I don't want to be part of the sappiest love story ever since Romeo and Juliet."

Harry smirks, dimples deep, content with the fact that Louis' just referred to them as a love story.

"They were tragic, actually."

"Go pay for your stuff, smartass."

"Yes, mummy."

"Don't take the mickey."

Louis watches him tread off, bottom lip sticking out like a sulking child. He only buys the onesie because its purpose is valid.

That way, when his baby shits himself all over the onsie, Louis can have a right laugh at the fact that Harry Styles has gotten shit on. _How funny?_

➸

They don't get back to the cabin until the afternoon starts, stopping for lunch, picking up all their phones and waiting an hour by the phone lockers until his family treads up with a more than perfect turkey they struggle to hold, and a bunch of other items, including his birthday cake, but only the glazed over Christmas cookies catch Louis' eyes. He snacks on more than half the packet on the hour ride back home into their forest on the outskirts of London.

When they get back, Louis stuffs the onesie with Harry's face into his suitcase, gets into bed and passes out for a good few hours.

He wakes up to another blizzard beginning, smiles because it's just like Christmas in the movies, and finds himself downstairs on the couch, snuggled up next to a napping Harry and talking with Lottie about visiting Honolulu for the summer. Really, Lottie just misses the sun, but Louis loves the winter.

The afternoon disappears into thin air and the evening comes around with a merry _happy birthday to you_ sung to Louis. He gets more than enough presents shoved under his chin from his family, but despite his denial towards the way he feels about the man he so called hates, he still feels like Harry being alive is the best gift he could receive.

Louis falls asleep that night in Harry's arms to wake up on Christmas day with a boat load of kicking in his abdomen. He can't help but smile, feel happy for something he never planned to be happy with.

 _Everything has changed_.

That afternoon, as his mum struggles to take out the turkey from the battery powered freezer, he laughs instead of looking where he's going and trips. He tries not to swoon at the fact that he's tripping and falling into Harry's arms. It's all too magical, as the Christmas season is, a bit too much. They sit around the dining table come seven in the evening, exchanging numerous stories between them and digging into an almighty feast. Louis is not ashamed he eats more than everyone - he _is_ eating for two.

At least that's what he tells himself as he tries to fall asleep feeling like he swallowed New York.

Then boxing day comes around, and even though walking outside is akin to walking into a freezer, Louis wants to go for a walk by the pond at the bridge in the forest. It's only expected that Harry stuffs his curls into a beanie and follows him without a word. He doesn't want anything to happen to Louis or his baby despite the fact the part of the forest he is going is so unbelievably safe.

Louis' shivering his buttocks off when they reach the frozen pond, but he doesn't complain. He loves the snow, even if it's falling two times harder than it did during the first blizzard and hitting him sharply against his face. At least it's not concerningly windy yet.

"Do you reckon the runways will be in use by the time we plan to leave?"

Louis moves his mouth out from behind his scarf, kicking at a large stick poking through the snow on the ground.

"I don't know. It's quite bad, ain't it?" He puts a hand out to catch a handful of falling snow.

"I hope so," Harry responds as they begin to walk onto the small bridge. "Kinda miss LA, you know?"

Louis rolls his eyes, "'course you would. You live right by the beach, own half of said beach and you don't get nagged at for noise because you don't have people living across the hallway from you. Me, on the other hand, not the biggest fan of LA. Too much drama."

"Drama which you usually influence with that sass of yours."

"Hey, I don't choose to be sassy. Living amongst a bunch of actors whom some of quite like to act fake, I have to be sassy or certain people will walk all over me."

"I still do it anyway," Harry smirks, elbowing Louis playfully as they lean on the bridge railing.

The blue eyed boy swats him on the jaw without mercy, revelling in how Harry grips his face and groans out in pain.

"You're just about an exception, do not get cocky. You may insult me and annoy me but-"

"I love you."

"That you do, however, I don't appreciate you constantly reminding me. I look at you and I either want to gauge my eyes out or shove a knife up my ass."

"Are you calling me a pain in the ass? Because that I definitely am," Harry winks only to receive another hit against his face. He winces as he touches at his jaw, "nothing has changed, you are still a violent little prick."

"Only to you because you deserve it."

The curly headed man turns to slip his hands around Louis' waist and pull him close, looking down at him.

"You are a little fucker. Always have been, always are and always will be."

Louis smirks, bringing his hands up to rest between their chests.

"Does insulting me turn you on?"

"It actually does."

"Weirdo."

"But you love me."

"I hate you."

Harry sighs, shaking his head but leans in to leave a chaste peck on Louis' lips. "I love you too."

"Ew, sap."

"Shut up," Harry flicks Louis on the back of his head. "Let's talk baby names."

"If you dare suggest a name named after a flower, I will punch you."

"Poppy- _ow!"_

"I warned you," Louis clicks his fingers as a diva would, sarcastically. "And I think it's a boy."

Harry's eyes grow wide.

"You're telling me that... That I'm going to have to put up with another you?"

"Take it or leave it."

Harry picks him up without a God damn struggle, wrapping each of Louis' legs around his waist and hugging him as tightly as he can without squeezing their baby.

"Course I'm going to take it," Harry kisses his neck, then looks up at him. "Any day."

"Any day?"

"Any day."

➸

The 29th of December creeps up on them like a fox to its prey, and Louis finds himself saying goodbye to his mother and sisters with the longest hugs and best of kisses, receiving a, _"I'll be flying_ _back_ _on the third,"_ from Lottie.

After getting through security and everything, Harry and Louis pick out a café that has the least amount of people in it near the back of their terminal, and after almost two weeks without a television, Louis ends up engrossed in the news streaming as he sips on a hot cup of coffee and chews on a hot cross bun.

They've been sitting in quiet, Harry eating a vegan snack like the health nut he is, when Louis perks up, leaning back in his chair and scoffing.

"Bloody 'ell, look. Just out of Christmas and we're on the news."

Harry looks up from his phone confused, looks at the T.V. and then smirks.

"As always."

"Shut up, I'm trying to listen."

Louis leans forward, elbows on the table, and places a hand under his chin. He uses his other to sip some more on his coffee as he listens to the presenter.

_"Harry Styles, Christopher Nolan's SULK star, was pictured in London on Christmas Eve with co-star Louis Tomlinson, during what appears to be a very controversial moment. On screen, Styles and Tomlinson have numerous intimate scenes given that their characters - Alex and Tyler - are in a relationship with each other. However, off screen, we know the two to be sworn enemies that cannot stand each other. In these two fan-taken images, Styles is depicted with his hands on his co-star's cheeks, and on his pregnancy bump. The first image has issued the ongoing debate on whether their hate for each other is legitimate, or if, as conspired by many fans, there is something more going on behind the scenes."_

Louis snorts, choking on his coffee in the process. _Definitely._

_"The second image raises the question: can Harry Styles be the unknown father to Louis Tomlinson's baby?"_

That's where Louis snaps out of his humoured mindset, eyes buldging out of their sockets as he turns to face Harry who sits with a blank face.

"They cannot find out."

"As you've already said," Harry responds quietly, clearly bothered and upset. "When we get back home, I will make a statement on twitter and I will avoid being seen with you unless it's on set so the rumours die out."

"Hey," Louis speaks guiltily, "I'm not asking you to cut yourself off or abandon us. Just, don't do sappy shit, and tell me you hate me more often."

Harry raises an eyebrow, "that isn't enough to stop the rumours.'

"Let the public invent conspiracies about us, we'll do what we do best, and we'll act. We'll do our jobs."

Harry's chest hurts from the familiarity of those words, but he doesn't mention it.

"Is it just about maintaining a reputation or is there another reason why the world cannot know the truth?"

Louis' words get caught in his throat. He doesn't know how to answer him or what to answer with. His mouth opens, then it closes, but Harry still waits for an answer, never interrupting what could be one coming from the blue eyed boy's mouth. Louis sighs.

"Let's go back to the beginning, yeah?"

Harry nods.

"We met at the Golden Ball. We had sex. I got pregnant. I lost the baby. I found you again, but you forgot me. I hated you, then you hated me. We bickered. We argued. We fought. Then we had sex again. I got pregnant again. I thought I'd lose the baby, but I didn't. Then I lied. You exposed me. We bickered. We argued. We fought."

Harry gulps, eyes anywhere but Louis', shamefully.

"We are a cycle, Harry, and the thing about cycles is that there is a genesis, but there isn't really an end. We just repeat, and repeat. Like humans, for example. We once never existed, then we did, and our cycle continues on, and on, and on, and it will never end unless something drastic happens like the sun explodes or an apocalypse wipes us out. We are like a virus that is incurable. People like us, we don't fall in love with each other and we've done exactly that. People like us, we don't create a baby together and we've done exactly that. What, so we can go through our cycle of 'I hate you. We bicker. We argue. We fight. I love you' with an audience?"

Harry's got his face in his hands. He's crying. How can he not?

"You think I want the world to see the screwed up version of us, let alone my child? No, Harry. So yes, it _is_ about maintaining a reputation, an image - that I don't know who the father of my child is and that you're the person I hate the most, because if the world finds out we are in love with each other, that you are the father to my baby, it won't cost us but it will cost our kid."

Harry wipes his eyes, running a hand through his hair and tries to steady his irregular breathing. He's trying to hold the rest of his tears in, but they keep falling one after the other.

"What will it cost them?"

Louis blinks up at the T.V, him and Harry no longer being the latest news streaming and sits back, relaxing his posture in defeat.

"It will cost them a normal life."

The green eyed man nods, rubbing his clammy hands on his jeans and inhaling only to breath out shakily.

"So, I guess we hide the truth."

"Yeah..."

Louis looks down at his fingers guiltily, body coming to rest with the fact that this is it, when they get back home, they go back to normal. He gulps.

"I love you," Louis whispers.

Harry's heart skips a beat, because it sounds so final, like he will never hear it from him again.

"I love you too."

A sad silence lingers between them as Louis glances around the empty café. The only people are the cooks in the kitchen and the cashier who's cleaning up one of the tables furthest from the two and with her back to them. Louis leans into Harry, lips coming against his in the most apologetic kiss, and neither of them want to part. Harry stops his hands from gripping onto Louis' face, and Louis stops himself from tangling his fingers in Harry's hair.

They part, in silence, Harry in tears.

_"This is a very important announcement to everyone in this airport due to board a flight. We have received a severe red warning in terms of the blizzard, and unfortunately, have been informed that we cannot land or take off any flight safely on our runways due to obstruction. The runways will be shut down for the next three days, and in conclusion, Heathrow airport will not be in service until then. All flights are cancelled and those due to land today will be diverted to Ostend-Bruges International Airport of Belgium where all passengers will be advised to complete the remainder of their journey via a ferry. Sincerest apologies from the staff and team here at Heathrow. We wish you a very happy new year."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13 may just kill you and chapter 14 will make you want to, just, die and resurrect. This is kinda where the real shit goes down and the story takes a turn. I'm so fucking excited. Thank you for sticking around this long and thank you, thank you, thank you so much for the amazing continuous support. Just, thank you. I start college the Monday after this, so I don't know what my schedule will be like and if I find myself with little time to write, I may decide to write less each chapter so I can update more regularly. I will let you know and hopefully you all stick around. Much, much, much love. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart <3 .xx


	13. Marylebone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry it's been so long, just some important notes:
> 
> I've decided to lessen the amount of words in these chapters in order for me to update more regularly because right now I'm on some whack job 2-3 weeks update and it's absolutely terrible. I've started college so I don't have the most time.
> 
> Also, I'm planning to update at least once a week solely because I have one other published work I'm working on, a one shot and a legit full book that I'm planning to finish writing before posting that I'm so damn excited for you to read (it is a kid fic and criminal fic in one).
> 
> I thought that it was important that I told you guys. Thank you for everything and omg, here is chapter 13. I make some real shit happen here but it's all for a reason.

"Hey..."

Louis looks away from the hotel window, fingers falling from the glass. Harry leans against the bedroom door frame, face soft, eyes evergreen. They haven't really spoken since their cancelled flight. They've just gone about the time to pass in silence, appreciating each other's company but never once admitting it. They're thirty minutes away from the new year. Louis doesn't think it would be bad to end it in silence. Harry clearly has other ideas.

"Hey," the blue eyed boy responds back, turning away to open the door to the balcony and walk out, dragging the comforter off the bed and hauling it out with him. He stands quietly, the freezing air turning his nose red in the dark.

Harry makes his way beside him, slowly stealing the covers from him and wrapping it around the both of them properly, an arm around Louis' shoulder.

"I was thinking," the green eyed lad starts off, breathing in the cold air. "Of baby names, non-flower related."

"Cool," Louis responds, his lack of response from being distracted by the beauty of the entire city before him, the whole span of London in view. From the Big Ben to the London Eye to Canary Wharf, the entire city lit up and absolutely stunning.

"Oh, give me a better response than that," Harry attacks him in a bubbly hug from behind, hands coming to rest on his bump under the quilt.

"Sorry, I'm just..." he inhales the fresh air deeply, closing his eyes and listening to the city sounds.

"I know," Harry responds, head resting on his shoulder, smiling. "It's fine."

"I'll let you put your baby name ideas into a bowl with mine and we'll draw. I don't feel like arguing with you about naming a football," Louis laughs lightly, warm in Harry's arms.

"Don't be lax. You know arguing with you is what turns me on."

"Yeah, well, my back hurts and I don't feel like being fucked to oblivion on a balcony," Louis rests his head back under Harry's chin.

"That would be lovely," Harry hums, "maybe we could?" He nudges his member forward only to get whacked in the thigh. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry," he laughs.

"You're like, insanely horny now that you know I've got your kid in me," Louis cuddles back into him, gently swaying on his feet.

"That and when you look at me like you want to rip my head off, of course I'm going to be," Harry splays his hands lower on Louis' stomach. "You reckon you'll lactate?"

"Harry, what the fuck?" Louis whacks him on the thigh again, pursing his lips and trying not to laugh when Harry hisses in pain. "Why has that even come out of your mouth?"

"Hey," Harry speaks defensively but sounds like a whining child in doing so. "It is a valid question."

"If I do, I will slap your dimples to Uranus if you make a big deal out of it."

Harry childishly mimics him before falling quiet. They stand there, watching the city, before Louis finds himself screwing up his face in confusion and then eyes widening in realisation.

"God dammit Harry, are you hard?"

"How can I not be?" Harry shamelessly admits. "You're providing a home and food for my child, that is attractive as hell."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, I don't care. Pack it in, fucking hell. Control your damn dick. Once this football is out, if you even attempt coming near me with that thing, I will get a restraining order against you."

"Jesus," Harry shakes his head. "You know the more you talk is the worse it gets-"

"Oh my _God_."

"Hey-"

"Shut up, they're about to count down!"

Louis bounces on his feet as the Big Ben's second hand ticks around the clock for the last time this year. He's sweltering in the cold anticipating the final chime and the burst of fireworks in the sky, and as they get down to ten seconds, the whole city starts to count down. He finds himself gripping Harry's hand tightly as the last five seconds come around.

_"Four, three, two, one-"_

There's the refreshing sound of the Big Ben's donging and the first round of fireworks going off in the sky, but before he can view it, he's turned around in Harry's arms and immediately drawn into a kiss that says it all. That wishes him a happy new year and prays for a good one without the terrible events that the last carried.

Louis sees the whole past year flash past his eyes. Every single moment, every little feeling that's led him to now - the _shit_ that's lead him to now.

Who would have thought he'd love the person he hates?

"Happy new years."

"Happy new years."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

 ➸  

New Years day drives Louis up the damn wall. It's not Harry, for once, but instead it's the awful pain in his back that's sore as hell. He notices how his stomach is just that little bit more bigger than it was yesterday, but the small change has took a massive toll on his body. By the time lunch comes around, he's ready to cry from frustration so Harry decides to plop him down in a car seat and drive him to a five star masseuse in Marylebone he knows.

Louis hates the fact that he's close to entering his third trimester, because his body is already suffering. Or perhaps he's overreacting, but he knows sooner or later he won't be.

Any other time, Harry turning on the radio to classic hits from the seventies through to the nineties would make Louis unbuckle his seatbelt and dance in his seat, but he's flat out cranky with his sore back. Then when the light kicking starts in his stomach as he tries to rest away the pain, that's when he can't take it anymore.

"Harry, turn the fucking radio off!"

The green eyed man is shocked at the outburst, eyes leaving the road.

"Why do you gotta yell?" Harry responds back equally pissed, turning the radio off and focusing his eyes back on the road.

He starts to drive onto a dual carriageway, speed increasing up to seventy miles per hour. Just to avoid another snapping from Louis who starts to wrap his arms around himself, he turns on the heater, but it still isn't enough. He can see the irritated look on his face, knows that he's probably grumpy about his sore back or because of his mood swings, but Harry is still pissed enough that he decides to question him, and not as sensitively as he could.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Louis looks like he could rip his head off. "Come again?"

Harry glances from the road to Louis repeatedly, lips in a line. "You heard me."

"Oh, nothing's wrong," Louis responds back sarcastically. "Yeah, my back's completely fine. I don't feel like I swallowed a football. I am perfectly great asides from the fact I can't see my damn dick and the brat inside me won't stop kicking. Yeah, I'm good, I'm great, I'm fucking fine!"

Harry sighs, guilty that he even questioned Louis in the first place so negatively. He looks at the road shamefully, then reaches a hand out to hold Louis' apologetically but only gets it swatted away. He contains his own frustration, inhaling deeply and exhaling.

"I'm sorry," he looks back at Louis. "I love you."

"Keep your damn eyes on the road, Harry," Louis rolls his eyes, looking out the window and ignoring the intense stare from Harry he receives before the curly headed man is putting his focus back on the road.

"I don't get it," Harry starts and Louis groans. "C'mon, it's New Year's day. Last night was lovely, we had an amazing breakfast this morning, why are you letting a little back ache piss all over your mood?"

"Eyes on the road," Louis repeats himself, because it's so damn obvious Harry is looking at him again. "'Little' is an understatement."

"At least tell me you love me back. Don't leave me hanging, Lou. I mean, I cooked you a roast last night, that's how much I love you."

"You know what I could do with right now? Earplugs to drown your annoying ass voice out...and I love you too."

"See," Harry looks back at him, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No, but you know what is? You. All the bloody time, and I swear to God if you don't shut up and let me sit in peace, I'll blockade my ass from your dick like it's the Berlin Blockade and when I birth this damn baby and I'm able to bend over in ways I can't do now, you will cry. I promise to God, I'll quarantine your sex addicted self like you are the Black Death and I will simply bid you farewell without a flying fuck."

" _Fucking hell_..." Harry tries to process everything Louis has just said to him, eyes blinking as if he's been hit in the face with a heavy pillow and is seeing stars. "I love a psycho."

"Eyes on the fucking road, shitbag, for the last God damn time!"

Harry groans, shaking his head and taking a hand off the wheel for a mere second to brush his hair out of his face.

"You're in the wrong lane. Marylebone is left."

Harry sighs, putting the left indicator on and getting ready to move over. There's a car speeding at a ninety, Harry takes a wild guess, so he waits for it to pass. In that moment, he sees Louis growing pale, feeling icky with what he guesses is due to a variation of things - the car moving fast, his sore back, perhaps the flu if he's getting one.

Harry doesn't get to ask him what's wrong though, because it's then his lack of sight on the road takes a turn for the worst.

He doesn't even see the truck coming.

➸  

_"Mate, what you need is to pick_ _out_ _a lassie to dance with tonight," Nick sips on his glass of wine._

_Harry watches the people sway across the ballroom floor, dressed in fancy suits and ball dresses with the finest touches. He admires the glimmering lights and live music, the cocktails and_ _platters_ _of finely_ _presented_ _bite sized_ _pieces_ _of food._

_"And a little bit more alcohol," Nick continues, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulder and leading him slowly through the crowd._

_"My eye_ _hasn't_ _been caught yet," Harry replies simply, stealing Nick's glass and drinking some of the alcohol._

_"That's because you_ _aren't_ _letting anyone catch those emerald charmers. Look over there. What about_ _that_ _strawberry blonde? She looks like she's from Denmark."_

_"How exactly do_ _you_ _pinpoint_ _that?" Harry looks at his mate in disbelief._

_"I have an exquisite taste in men, very tropical. I once dated a Greenlandic - very rare to find. All I have to do is apply my_ _knowledge_ _to the female body._ _Honestly_ _, I'm just getting European vibes from her."_

_"I think I'll pass,"_ _Harry_ _dismisses him, handing back the empty wine glass._

_Nick deadpans Harry at the lack of wine left and hands off the glass to a passing by tray._

_"Come on, H. You_ _don't_ _even_ _need_ _a systematic approach to win her over. All you have to do is toss your hair and lick those lips and bam,_ _ovaries_ _exploded."_

_Harry rolls his eyes, coming to a stop and scanning the room. He thinks the ladies look lovely, but it's not his cup of tea. Nick just_ _doesn't_ _know that yet. Amid his scan, he catches sight_ _of_ _a lad clad in a suit from a line that screams British with its double breasted front. He trails his eyes up the curvy body only to catch a pair of Carribean blue_ _eyes_ _staring_ _right back at him, so blue that he can see it from where he's stood._

_"Or a laddy to dance with, whatever suits you best," Nick smirks_ _knowingly_ _._

_Harry hums, watching as the_ _lad_ _tears his eyes_ _away_ _to face a man no doubt his boyfriend with the_ _way_ _he's in his hold, small waist being held as he's drawn in for a kiss. They part, the blue eyed lad smiling brightly and_ _wrapping_ _his arms around the man's neck._

_"He looks cuffed."_

_"That's because he is," Nick scoffs. "Look at that_ _hefty_ _bloke. What do you reckon you'll leave with? A broken rib? A bruised eye?"_

_"A broken spine. The kind of_ _challenge_ _I love," Harry pats his friend on the shoulder as he starts to advance towards the blue_ _eyed_ _lad._

_"Hey, Charming, don't get carried away. Your bank account is not going to like the hospitsl bill, or maybe it won't care because you're loaded but I don't want to be telling_ _you_ _about the new lad I've met with_ _you_ _on a hospital bed and...I am talking_ _to myself_."

_"You have a pretty face,"_ _Harry_ _blurts out shamelessly to the_ _blue eyed_ _boy in front of his boyfriend, dimpled smirk on his face._

_Up close, he looks ten times better. Skin baby soft, lips a camellia red, eyes with darker flecks of blue amongst lighter_ _flecks_ _. Harry is_ _immediately_ _whipped. That is_ _who_ _he_ _wants_ _for the_ _night_ _._

_"Mind if I steal you?" Harry grabs his hand and_ _starts_ _to whisk him away without an answer._

_The_ _boy_ _starts to laugh at the horrified look on his_ _boyfriend's_ _face._

_"I'll be back in a couple of_ _minutes_ _, baby."_

_His voice,_ _though_ _. That's what makes Harry want to have him all._

_➸_

Waking up to the familiar white blinding lights is more lonely this time. He doesn't see Zayn's face, doesn't hear his voice, doesn't remember anything but the vivid memory that he's just dreamt. He can feel his head wrapped in a bandage and padding, and his teeth feel heavy against each other, a dull pain in his jaw. His arm is in a cast, and he feels down right awful. Then there's the sound of the door opening and closing, and he's greeted with an old nurse, her name tag reading _Nancy._

She smiles brightly when she sees he's awake, changing his IV tube and taking a seat beside him on a chair.

"Hi, Mr. Styles," she speaks softly. "How are you feeling?"

He groans in soreness, going to open his mouth to reply but his teeth feel like they are glued shut. Nancy nimbly apologises, holding his hand for comfort as she starts to explain why he can't move his jaw.

"Mr. Styles, your jaw was broken when you came in, your arm too. You came out of surgery a couple of hours ago," she speaks slowly, letting him process everything. "Your mouth will be wired shut for a while and you'll have to be on a liquid diet for a few weeks."

Harry blinks, green eyes hazy. He doesn't know what to think, and he definitely doesn't know how to feel. He appreciates Nancy's soothing touch. It keeps him in touch with the fact he isn't dreaming, and helps him take in each word she says.

"I understand you were with Louis Tomlinson during the accident," she eases into the topic.

It all comes flooding back to Harry. The split second it all went wrong and all because of him. He wants to cry, because he doesn't know if the person he loves is okay and he can't ask, but none of his bones let him yet. He feels numb.

"I believe you must be close to him. He is...moderately okay. I shouldn't be letting you out of bed but, would you like to see him? He is in intensive care."

Harry wants to nod frantically because _of course, of course, of course_ he does, but he can't move his head, bones sore and face swollen. The most he can do is tilt his thumb up, and Nancy gets the sign. She helps him into a wheel chair, and they leave the room.

The first thing Harry notices as he's wheeled in is Louis' flat stomach. His mind doesn't register how it really is, the fact that his bump is gone. He blinks violently, anything to clear his deceiving vision, but nothing changes. Then he believes the worst, chest starting to heave and tears starting to spill out of his eyes.

"Louis is in a coma," Nancy rips the band aid off with the softest sympathetic voice. "He had a dangerous hit to the head. We don't know when he will wake up..."

Harry blinks, speechless even if he could open his mouth, in shock. Harry can't lose him, he can't lose Louis. He can't lose any more people, he just _can't_ , so he grips onto Louis' limp hand, silently telling him to hold the fuck on and not leave him.

"He also received a life threatening hit to the stomach," she informs him, voice quiet as she treads around dangerous waters, aware that Harry could have a panic attack or faint from shock. "We had to perform an emergency caesarean on him."

Harry's head snaps up despite the pain that sears through his neck and jaw, tears spilling over repeatedly. He starts to shake his head, refusing to accept the worse.

"Oh, God no, the baby is alive," she immediately tells him, smiling reassuringly, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly as he starts to cry tears of joy, thanking the Gods above. "He's in intensive care too. Is he yours?"

Harry's eyes widen at the word _he,_ just like Louis predicted, and even more tears spill over. His hands start to shake in joy that his baby boy is alive, that he didn't fuck this whole thing up completely. He closes his eyes, thanking the Lord above, saying a prayer and drawing the cross over his chest. Then he nods at Nancy, a silent statement that the baby is his.

"He is far too premature. He can't breathe, eat or stay warm on his own, so he's all wired up in an incubator," Nancy rubs his shoulder soothingly. "I can bring him in here if you wish?"

Harry looks pleadingly at her and she receives his answer well and clear, leaving the room to get his precious baby, _their_ precious baby. He grips tightly onto Louis' hand, _I'm so sorry._

When the nurse returns wheeling in the person Harry helped Louis create, he blinks in astonishment, choking on his spit, tears dropping as he finally gets to meet his precious baby under the warm yellow light. He pokes a finger through the hole in the incubator for a first touch, and as soon as Harry's finger brushes his little hand, the size of the pad of his own thumb - he's taken.

Oh, God, he's taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, sorry, that baby had to come out eventually, it was taking forever. This was the plan all along, so don't worry, I'm not randomly going out on a limb so trust me, the endgame is 100% Larry and if I take a wild guess, I'm thinking that there will be twenty whole chapters to this fic. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think. Please tell me if you give up reading this because there's so much drama and I'll try to tone it down :) Key word: try.
> 
> Much love .xx
> 
> (Louis will be okay, I promise).


	14. How Easy You Are To Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tears. Baby naming. Talking.
> 
> :)

He is beautiful. Through Harry's tears, he can still see that his baby boy has Louis' cheeks and little elf nose, and he figures even if he wasn't premature, he would still be as small as hell.

He is so beautiful that Harry can't draw his eyes away, doesn't blink until his eyes are burning in fear that his baby will taper off like a hologram until he's no longer there, like his two other kids that never got the chance to breath. At that, he promises to his baby boy the world, the whole damn entire world that he couldn't give his siblings.

Nancy gives him more than a moment to look at the life before him, the little boy of his own blood, the little beauty that he is able to call his. She places a hand on Harry's back as he gets up to see him whole, shaking from the rush of love and relief swarming his heart and entire chest.

All he wants to do is take him and Louis home, wrap them up warm in his sheets and apologise to Louis for ever hating him because had he known he'd give him something so beautiful, he'd never of mistreated him. No matter the cause, no matter his anger, despite his pride.

"Have you two thought of a name?"

Harry shakes his head the slightest, tears spilling onto the incubator glass as he ever so gently draws his finger across the back of his baby boy's hand, scared that he will break like a piece of China.

"He's very beautiful," Nancy comments, all the whilst gazing at the premature baby. "He'll be here for eight weeks, just until he's fully developed and can breath and eat on his own."

Harry blinks, stuck in his trance as he begins to brush at his sleeping baby's cheek. He tries to ignore the tube up his little nose and the wires stuck to his chest but he only ends up crying further, amplifying the dull pain in his jaw, the medicine starting to wear off.

"He will be okay," Nancy comforts him, ushering him to take a seat back in the wheel chair. "I will try my best to have you moved here so you can stay with both your boys," she smiles sweetly.

Harry is so thankful for that, so blessed to be with his boys despite the heart breaking sight of them. He's never felt so torn and so in love at the same time, and as he moves over to thumb at Louis' cheeks, Harry's never wanted the feeling back in his lips more than ever. They are numb from the anaesthetic and all he wants to do is kiss Louis.

"You may stay here for a bit if you please," Nancy lets him know. "I'll be back soon to update you on your little one and the room change."

She leaves the room, Harry with a million words on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say to Louis but can't, so he sends the thought, hoping that he will hear him.

_My Lou,_

_I can't speak right now, but if_ _I_ _could, these would be all the things I'd tell you_.

 _I love you, I love you,_ _I_ _love you, and thank you._ _Thank_ _you for carrying our_ _baby_ _, thank you for_ _giving_ _him_ _a_ _chance_ _._ _Yes_ , _him, as you thought. I need you, and I love you, so you need to wake up. Wake up..._

➸

The next day is a blur. When Harry gets the room change he's yearned for the past twenty four hours, all his moments consist of are gripping onto Louis' hand, brushing his soft hair back, gazing at their baby boy and running a finger over his gentle skin. He repeats it, again and again and again because he just can't get enough of his two boys.

To the point it just hurts that he can't speak to Louis, that his baby can't hear his voice for the first time yet. So he writes to them both  with his unbroken arm.

_My boys,_

_Louis, before you call me a, "fucking sap," just know that I_ _don't_ _want our baby boy growing up hearing_ _profanities_ _. Baby boy, if you ever hear your mama_ _swear_ _you tell me and I'll sort_ _him_ _out for you. Louis, I love you but_ _I_ _want to_ _let_ _you know that if you dare feed our baby boy sweets and chocolate I will come for you. Not in that way, you dirty minded fool. Baby boy, I_ _have to_ _set the rules now. No_ _girls_ _or_ _guys under our_ _roof_ _, not until you_ _are_ _eight-_

"Harry?"

The curly headed lad looks up from the sheet of paper that has been wet with his tears, blinking away the blur to see none other than Johannah and the rest of Louis' family. They look as if they don't know who to go to first, as if Harry is a part of their family too. He is, he really is.

When the little ones come up to him first, hugging his sides as he sits up, he wishes his face wasn't numbed so that he could smile. Harry hugs back the best he can with one arm, and knows that he's crying again when Johannah and Lottie come to hug him before facing the shitty reality of Louis in a coma on a hospital bed.

And the thing is, it's all Harry's fault. At least, that is what he tells himself despite the fact he knows it was the truck driver who maneuvered wrongly, but...he should have kept his eyes on the road. Of course he's going to take the blame. He may be cold at times, may live to create hassle for people, but when he's in love, God, when he's in love, any danger in the way of the person he's in love with, he'll take the blame. It's just who he is, who he hasn't been for years.

Come to think of it, he's never loved anyone the way he loves Louis right now. Sure, he had a thing for Nick when they first met. It was inevitable, Nick showing him the ropes of LA and opening certain doors for him - Nick took care of him, and Harry loves to be taken care of, but with Louis... With Louis, he loves taking care of him more than he loves being taken care of, so _o_ _f_ _course_ he's going to blame himself.

He wonders why Jay and the rest of the family aren't looking at him in disgust for almost killing Louis, wonders why when Dan walks in from an entire Christmas away on a special work offer, he's getting hugged by him instead of punched.

He wonders if they even know what happened other than they were in a car crash. He can't ask, clearly, but wouldn't if he could, scared that they don't know the truth and telling them would result in the family wanting nothing to do with him. He doesn't want to be that parent who doesn't get on with the other side of the family. He wants to be that parent to throw pointless barbecues on a Saturday afternoon with the entire family and neighbourhood. He wants to be that parent to visit his child's gramps and gran every weekend just for the sake of quality time. He wants to be that parent who gets the whole family together for the holidays and go to a beach resort and not worry about any bullshit or work going on at home.

His dream is sort of unrealistic, especially when his own mum and sister are constantly in New York, both for Law jobs, and especially when Louis' family is always in England asides from Lottie and it's only them in LA. Now given that no one knows when Louis will wake up, no one knows when that dream will come true.

Harry drowns out the words being spoken to Louis by his family, gets himself away and to his baby boy. He hasn't opened his eyes yet, and if he has sometime throughout the night, Harry has definitely missed it. The thought hurts his chest. He doesn't want to miss his boy's first anything.

His baby boy opens his little mouth to yawn in his sleep, his whole body shaking as newborns do when they yawn. His tiny tongue sticks out and he screws his little fists into balls. It's the most Harry has seen him move, and he's even more beautiful doing so.

The family catches wind of the newborn in the room, missing the incubator to the side in their rush to Louis. Lottie approaches his side, eyes locked on the new addition, torn at the sight but so already completely in love.

"Fuck, Harry," her mouth drops, ever so slowly pointing a finger through the incubator hole to stroke his baby's little fist. "He's gorgeous."

Jay cries when she sees her first grandson, so small and tubed up, little chest rising up and down courtesy of the oxygen being provided by the tube up his nose. He's a sight for sore eyes, anyone could make that comment. Harry believes if he went into the nursery and took a glance at all the other newborns there, his and Louis' would still be the most beautiful.

How could their baby not? Especially when the DNA he carries comes from two celebrity actors who not only embrace the front page of tabloids, articles and newspapers due to their relationship and quarrelling, but also because they are quite the sight. It's not a conceited thought, it's just true. A fact, the reality, the reality in which no one can find out the truth.

But what happens when their baby boy grows? If his eyes are not blue, they'll be green. If his hair is not straight, it'll be curly. Either way, someone will make the connection. Someone will be the first to imply it. Someone will be the first to fuck it over for them if not them themselves.

Harry hasn't thought this through at all. It's stupid, so foolish to attempt hiding the truth, but a large part of him fears that if he says that to Louis' face, he'd lose him for good out of the pure idiocy of calling what's in his child's best interest 'stupid'. He wants nothing more than to have those blue eyes staring at him despite from a hospital bed Louis' only in because of Harry himself.

Harry wants Louis to wake up, because they're not whole until he does. He wants the stupid glass of the incubator to have been a mesh net that he could have torn through and held his baby boy properly at first glance.

He wants. Simply put it as that. He wants a lot of things but because of karma, he isn't getting it. So as the family of the boy he forced into being bedridden swoon over his son - somebody who wasn't meant to be here for another two months - the most he can do to drown out the awful feeling of guilt in his chest is hide under the sheets of his hospital bed, clenching his eyes shut until his body falls asleep.

His mind never does.

➸

_"If I were to seduce you knowing that you have a partner,_ _would_ _I receive a slap to the face?" Harry questions as he leads the boy into the middle of the room._

_"A brick, love," he responds, not at all_ _opposing_ _as_ _he's_ _grabbed by the waist and dragged closer to the_ _teenager_ _. "_ _Although_ _, I_ _don't_ _condone child abuse."_

_"I'm not a child," Harry_ _speaks_ _defensively._

_"Sorry, I meant animal abuse," he smirks. "Should I be swooned that you are a_ _seventeen_ _year old celebrity starring in movies with famous_ _directors_ _after my heart_ _?"_

_Harry starts to sway him across the_ _dance_ _floor, eyes_ _intensely_ _on the blue ones before him._

_"I am flattered you know who I am, and yes, you should be."_

_"Well I'm not," he smiles_ _innocently_ _. "Give me something better to be swooned with."_

_"Ouch. Is my money loaded career not good enough?"_

_"I_ _don't_ _care_ _about having a green diet._ _I_ _don't_ _need money to feel full."_

_"Maybe not when there are other creative, inventive ways to_ _feel_ _full," Harry winks. "However, surely I can win you over_ _with_ _my charm," Harry dips him._

_When he brings the boy back up, Harry knows he's getting somewhere_ _with_ _the look in those ocean eyes. Better_ _yet_ _, the way his pink_ _lips_ _part to form the_ _sentence_ _that starts it all._

_"I'm Louis_ _," he smiles. "_ _Just so you know, my boyfriend's watching us._ _Don't_ _do anything dramatic, actor."_

➸

A week passes of the same routine. Wake up, gaze at his baby boy, gaze at _his boy_ , eat and then repeat. The only good thing about waking up on a snowy Sunday morning of January is that Harry finds himself able to mumble, then able to speak again.

The first thing he does is go to his baby boy, even though his stomach is rumbling because he never drank the liquid dinner they provided him last night. He presses his hands against the incubator glass, a silent wish for his baby boy to open his lovely eyes, just this once, as he speaks to him for the first time.

Out of all the things Harry has wanted for the past week and hasn't gotten, this is the one thing he does get. It happens ever so slowly, his baby boy fluttering his eyelids nothing but a millimetre open and then back shut again. On second try, Harry sees the strip of blue, as a lot of newborn's eyes are during the first period of their life. Then three is the lucky charm, his eyelids opening, eyelashes thick and no doubt stolen from Louis.

Harry smiles for the first time in a week, pressing his forehead against the incubator glass, heart mewling when his baby looks him right in the eye, mouth gargling and lips coated in baby drool. He wishes Louis was awake, especially as the words that come out in a whisper escape his mouth.

_"Holden."_

Those blue eyes look so peaceful despite the tube up his nose and the wires stuck to his chest monitoring his health and heartbeat. He is so serene, and so pure, and _so strong_ that the name that Harry whispers makes perfect sense.

"Holden," Harry repeats, tearing up, "because it sounds like hold on," he laughs foolishly. Only him. "You have held on through all the bullshit, excuse my language baby boy, and you will hold on through this time so when the day comes, I can take you home with your mama," he laughs lightly at his choice of label.

"Louis will have a go at me for calling him that, but he is your mother. He carried you, my darling, and he loves you so very much. He just isn't able to tell you that yet," Harry smiles through his tears. "But he will. Yeah, he will, 'cause he's gonna hold on too and he's gonna wake up and hold you in his arms. I don't know if I should wait until he wakes up to name you, but I know he will love it as much as I do. He loves you. I love you too."

His little Holden blinks back, eyes droopy and tired. Harry thumbs at his small hand through the hole in the incubator glass.

It's the best feeling, the most _special_ feeling in the world. Watching his son stare back at him, eyes so innocent. Harry feels guilty for bringing his baby boy into their world so soon, into their reality of cameras and red carpets and the media that will ruin his childhood if they don't hide the truth.

But would he wish to take it all back?

Never.

"Jay," he adds. "Holden Jay, because if it wasn't for Johannah, I wouldn't have Louis..."

He glances over at exactly him. Louis' face is of a peaceful that Harry hasn't seen on his face since the night they first met, dancing him around the ballroom floor despite his muscly boyfriend ready to rip Harry's head off at any moment. The fact that his boyfriend could commit murder right then and there didn't worry Louis in any sort of form. No, he looked as carefree as a hedgehog swimming in water as the green eyed teenager twirled him around. Louis never got to ask where Harry learned to dance, but if Harry was shit dancing, that night probably would have never happened...

_"That's a very pretty name for a very pretty face," Harry responds, green eyes glimmering as he covers the ballroom floor with graceful footsteps._

_"How much charm do you pull out of your ass every day on average?" Louis questions, cheeks flushed a cerise red._

_"That's a little awkward," Harry playfully grimaces. "I don't pull anything out of my ass because I don't put anything up there."_

_Louis throws his head back and laughs as Harry brings them both to a slow sway in the middle of the room. "Is that a top confession?"_

_"Indeed it is," Harry smirks but it falters as he comes to a stop. "Wait, I'm not dancing with a fellow top am I?"_

_"Ha, how awkward would that be?" Louis snorts. "Do I look like a top to you? Does this ass qualify better for a top position?"_

_"I don't know, why don't you let me feel it so I can give a judgement?" Harry slyly turns Louis around, drawing him back flush against his front._

_Harry feels the way Louis tenses up, but not in the I-have-a-boyfriend-so-stop-it way, in the I-have-a-boyfriend-but-fuck-it way. He moulds into Harry like they're pieces of clay. Their bodies radiate heat that can be felt through their clothes. Louis is boiling, worked up already. Harry can feel a cheat about to happen. It makes him smirk. As a seventeen year old acting and having fun, he has a list of things he wants to do and one of them is shag someone's boyfriend. Louis is heaven sent._

_"If you weren't Harry Styles, I'd gag at the awful catch lines coming out of your mouth."_

_"Fan of gagging, are you?" Harry spreads his hands on Louis' waist, feeling the smaller boy shiver._

_Louis swears on his grave if this was anyone else he would have rolled his eyes so hard and dumped a glass of wine all over their head, but Harry is a literal magnet. Louis tries to get away from the cheesy lines and his body, he really does, but he can't._

_"Fuck, if you're gonna fuck me, I ain't waiting 'till Christm-"_

_That's all Harry needs to pick him up bridal style and leave that ballroom, Louis' boyfriend hot on their trails. Nick distracts him with a catch phrase of his own to let them get away. Harry loves Nick, owes him two actually._

➸

Weeks pass, the kind of weeks that you lose count of because they're nothing but the black at the bottom of a void pit. Harry only realises it's been six weeks when during his every-single-hour-of-visitation visit on a rainy Sunday, Nancy tells him that Holden is seven weeks old and in perfect health sooner than predicted to finally go home the following Tuesday.

Harry can't think about home or his job, doesn't dare think about going back and leaving Louis an ocean away. It's stupid for it to even be considered. He can't raise a kid on his own - he can't even take care of himself let alone the person he loves. As the sky falls dark, Harry is faced with only two hours of visiting time left before he's to get kicked out only to spend the night alone in a hotel room. Of course his son's grandmother invited him to stay with the family, demanded rather, but the cabin is too far from the hospital and Harry doesn't even want to be a footstep away from Louis and Holden.

Sighing, he finds himself pulling away from his baby boy and making his way over to Louis. He's smiling despite the fact his heart feels like the bars on the gate of Buckingham Palace are going through it.

"I've been dreaming about you," he starts, taking a seat. "Thinking...about when we first met."

He picks up Louis' limp hand, intertwining their fingers but has to hold Louis' down shut. It hurts like a motherfucker knowing that Louis can't respond to him - verbally, physically, the whole lot.

"I want to say thank you...for cheating on your boyfriend," Harry laughs lightly. "I know you're still not officially mine yet, but in a way, you are, and if you never cheated on your boyfriend, you never would be. I had the audition the day after the ball. I was never planning to go but you gave me a wonderful night, left my spirits high, so I decided to. If you never cheated on your bulky ass boyfriend I probably never would have seen you again... Wouldn't have Holden..." his voice fades into a whisper.

He rests his head on Louis' chest, feeling him breathing and listens to his heart, a reminder that he's still alive despite it feeling like Harry's talking to a ghost. Harry closes his eyes and revels in the slow movement of Louis' chest rising and falling as he continues to mutter.

"You need to wake up, Lou..." Harry lets the tears escape his closed eyes, letting it fall onto Louis' hospital gown and leave soaked patches in the material. "I can't look after a baby. I can't even look after myself or you..."

He ignores the shuffling of one of the other nurses coming in the room and changing Louis' IV tube for the night, ignores their reminder that he's got only an hour left before he has to leave, doesn't once open his eyes. When the shuffling quietens, he breathes out a deep breath, resuming his depressing one way conversation, half asleep on Louis' chest.

"It's just, you gotta wake up, innit?" He slurs out, tired and broken inside and so alone. "I can't ask you to officially be mine if you don't. I mean, I could and pretend that you've said yes but that's just really sad, ain't it? I wanna court you, Lou, I don't care if we have jobs and a baby to look after, I want to take you out. Or rather, keep you in and binge watch Netflix 'cause I know that's what you'd prefer. Maybe a little Vodka there on the side now that Holds is out of you but _only_ a little. I don't want you going off the walls when he's demanding us to feed him and change his diap-"

_"Haz..."_

Harry snaps his eyes open.

"Louis?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grr, was meant to 'av a good plot twist 'ere but I am struggling a teensy bit with time, like, this was meant to be up last Monday.  
> As for the name Holden, heh, quick explanation. A, heard it on a Netflix series and it sounded hella cute and B, it makes total sense, pftt. 
> 
> Haha, a little surprise to some of my ongoing readers. I got like an 18,000 worded one shot that will be up within the next week, whenever I can edit it:) Iamexcited :):):) oh and another book I've been working on for ages that's still unfinished but won't be finished for a long time so why not, I could fall down a hole tomorrow:') (Louis')
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Much love .x


	15. Hold Your Cock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LACTATION AND A LACTATION KINK IN ITS FINEST. IF IT'S NOT YOUR CUPPA, OOPS. THIS WHOLE FIC IS UNPREDICATABLE AND I DO THE CRAZIEST SHIT if you've been reading my shit for a while you'll know I'm ott SO NO APOLOGIES LOVE Y'ALL ENJOY

Harry blinks, and again, repeatedly to clear his deceiving sight, but those ocean eyes are staring right back at him. They're confused, and when they realise the missing bump, they become frantic. Louis can't get another word out with his parched throat and Harry doesn't let him, cupping his cheeks and clasping his lips in a hard kiss. He doesn't get kissed back and accepts the fact that Louis is stunned and that's why.

However, when he pulls back he sees the hurt in Louis' eyes, the realisation. Harry blinks to clear his vision, hoping the look of horror on Louis' face is just a hallucination. It's not. Louis even tilts his head the slightest, a little tilt that appears so large. Any little movement he makes is huge compared to laying as a lifeless person would for weeks. Harry's heart pounds faster just at the mere sight of Louis plagued with horror, even though he wants to see him smiling.

Harry's thumb drags softly against the corner of Louis' mouth, dropping in rejection. His green eyes noticeably water as he continues to stare at Louis, every next second becoming more dauntingly real.

Part of Louis blames him too.

The curly headed lad's heart sinks in realisation as Louis starts to get up, ripping his gaze from him and straight to their baby boy. Louis is frail despite the nutrients being fed to his body since the crash and he stumbles forward into Harry's arms, fighting to get out.

"Louis?" Harry repeats, clasping his hands on the smaller boy's shoulders and looking at him with scared eyes.

Louis stops, finally looking him in the eye again, weak in his hold. The pure look of concern Harry gives makes him come back to reality out of his frenzy. Then Harry wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Louis' knees buckle but he's kept up in the green eyed man's hold.

Harry's missed feeling Louis' small body against him, so it almost feels surreal. Until he feels Louis shaking and knows that he's crying silently against his chest and Harry hasn't even thought to give him water. He looks to his phone and water bottle nearby on the side and uses one arm to reach out and get the half empty bottle. He maneuvers to sit on the hospital bed with Louis on his lap, unscrews the lid and brings it up to Louis' lips but he only turns his head away.

He tries again, confused, but is faced with the same response. When he finally understands why after ten dragged out seconds, it's like a truck has crushed his chest. Louis doesn't want to be able to speak to him because the moment he's able to, he may just lose his whole mind.

Harry swallows down the horrible feeling and tries again to get Louis to drink. He plans to sit here and do this until he's kicked out, until Louis gives in, but then he is. Louis gulps down the rest of the water, droplets seeping out the corners of his mouth and falling down his chin. Then when the bottle is empty, turns his face away and proceeds to get up and see his baby for the first time.

Harry doesn't stop him. He watches as Louis presses his hands up against the incubator glass, then the tip of his nose. Harry follows him, daring to wrap an arm around his waist. He doesn't get shrugged off as expected, instead Louis moulds into his hold as he sees their baby for the first time.

The green eyed lad figures that Louis may just turn around and tear him apart to cry into his chest. Figures that he could rip him all up just to tuck his head under his chin and feel his embrace, because despite all that has happened, their baby is okay.

Louis doesn't tear him apart or rip him up, he only slumps back against Harry's chest, head leant back on his shoulder and closes his eyes, happy that all three of them are together and alive. His surrounding are still blurry in his mind and he hasn't properly processed the fact that he's just come out of a coma but the one thing he does know is that he's okay. They're all okay.

"Mr. Styles, visiting hours are- oh. Mr. Tomlinson, you are awake!" Nancy smiles brightly from the doorway proceeding to enter the room.

Harry smiles, letting Nancy ramble happy comments as she approaches them. Anything to distract her from the fact that visiting hours are over.

"This is magnificent," the old woman preens, genuinely happy to see the family together. "Oh, great news you two," she rests a hand on one of their shoulders, looking at their baby in the incubator. "Baby Holden will be out of the incubator by tomorrow morning."

Harry doesn't want to leave one bit now knowing that their baby will be out come morning time. He doesn't get to whine a little to Nancy though as Louis is turning around in his arms glaring at him.

"You named him without me?"

It's so nice to hear that high pitched raspy voice speak even if there's layers of sass in his tone and a surge of curses about to be made. Harry starts to defend his actions but then Louis is breaking out into a smile.

"Be glad I like the name, shitbag, or you'd be shreds right now."

Harry wraps his arms tightly around Louis, squeezing him in an asphyxiating hug that he doubts is recommended after coming out of a coma but can't help himself from doing. Louis' face gets squashed against his chest until he lets go.

"How can you be jokingly calling me shitbag after everything?" Harry questions, looking into those blue eyes and feeling so incredibly blessed to love someone who hasn't attempted to strangle him even after everything that has happened.

"Who said I was joking?" Louis asks back. "You are a royal shitbag," he tears up unexpectedly. "How long was I out for?"

"Just over seven weeks," Nancy answers although feels like she shouldn't be intruding.

"You are a royal shitbag," Louis repeats, eyes becoming red and face becoming wet. "You fuck things up and you do stupid shit and you make me miss nearly eight weeks of my baby's life but I love you anyway and that makes me angry but I can't stop it."

"I'm sorry," Harry looks down shamefully.

"Shh, it wasn't entirely your fault," Louis rubs the back of his neck, looking down himself. "I shouldn't have took my anger out on you and the truck driver was the devil in human form. Damn it, I didn't even get the massage in the end, did I?"

Harry figures that Louis' light joking is his coping mechanism for dealing with the shitty reality Harry partially caused. He brings Louis into another hug, rubbing his back and looking at Nancy.

"Could I stay the night? Please?" He even pulls his bottom lip out and bats his eyelashes, anything to stay with Louis and Holden.

"I guess this is an exception," she responds. "How could I get in the way of this reunion? Of course," she smiles, rubbing both their backs again and getting ready to leave. "Okay, I'm going to get a file that needs to be filled out with answers to questions regarding you waking up," she gestures to Louis. "It will determine if you'll need a psychologist to help revive you after this prolonged period of being unconscious. I must say though, you have no amnesia as far as I'm concerned and you're doing pretty well," she gives a friendly wink as she leaves the two for a few minutes.

Harry looks at Louis. Louis looks at Harry. Harry has missed seeing Louis' eyes and Louis has missed seeing Harry and the silence between them is self explanatory, like it was before, but this time it isn't screaming that Louis blames him too but instead screaming their need to tackle each other to the hospital bed.

The green eyed lad makes the first move, ripping the giggles out of Louis' throat as he takes him over to the bed and tosses him onto the mattress and climbs over him. He rests his elbows beside Louis' head and his knees beside his thighs, lowering himself. He goes to kiss Louis but he's putting a hand over his lips.

"Holden? Really?" He's got a smirk appearing on his face.

Harry licks Louis' palm making him grimace and move his hand away. "Yeah, 'cause it-"

"Sounds like hold on."

"How did you know?" Harry grins.

"'Cause it's a you thing to do," Louis low key insults him. "Dorky and flat out stupid but I love the name," he finally connects their lips.

Harry doesn't even care that Louis' lips are chapped from the air and not as beautifully soft as they usually are. He loves he feeling of kissing him nonetheless. He places a hand on Louis' waist, pinching his skin through the hospital gown lightly and trailing said hand up and down the expanse of Louis' empty stomach whilst deepening their kiss.

He feels the excess skin from where Holden used to be, stroking the safe place their baby had for months. Harry can feel Louis' insecurity in the air, the blue eyed boy already aware that he's got the pudgiest stomach in contrast to how it used to be before. Louis doesn't tear up though because Harry's breaking their kiss to kiss his stomach, a silent _I_ _love_ _you no matter what you look like._

When Louis simply misses Harry's lips on his own, he tangles his fingers in Harry's curly locks, bringing his head back up. The action only initiates the kiss to be a lot more heated, Harry's hands roaming his body.

Louis' got a leg wrapped behind Harry's back and Harry's got a hand on his chest when the curly headed man freezes up, looking down with a smirk.

"What?" Louis tilts his head, lips red and puffy.

"Remember when I said it would be attractive as hell if you lactate?" He smirks, thumbing at the wet patches on Louis' hospital gown. "It is proper attractive."

Louis' mouth opens and closes, speechless. He props himself up on his elbows to look down at his soaking chest and groans. "Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Why are you grumpy?" Harry playfully pokes him in the rib.

"How much do you want to bet my leaking nipples become your next absurd fixation? It's always been my ass, now it's going to be my nipples and-"

Harry cuts him off with another kiss, cupping his jaw. He pulls away, eyes twinkling. "Jesus, you do talk a lot."

"Excuse me?" Louis raises his eyebrows. "Since when? Says the guy who successfully drove me deaf for a moment when you wouldn't shut up before I woke up. You big fucking sap-"

"Language, Lou," Harry leans back, sitting on Louis' thighs. "Holden can hear."

"Oh, God, no. Now I have to put up with you being a good parent. Do I still get to eat junk food or will you make me and Holden suffer by feeding us health nut meals?"

"Health nut meals, it is," Harry grins, getting off his lap to sit by his side on the bed.

There's a knock at the door.

"Mr. Tomlinson, I have your file to fill. Are you up for it right now?" Nancy questions.

Louis looks down at the soaked patches in his hospital gown, cheeks flushing red. "Yeah, um, could I have a new gown?"

Nancy enters the room, confused until she sees what Harry is having a dandy time looking at. "Oh, darling, of course," she laughs. "I'll get you some pads too and a chest wrap. You'll need to purchase these. They are necessities," she kindly lets him know. "I'll do that now, we can fill in the file a bit later," she leaves again.

"Harry? We're shit parents already," Louis freaks out. "We have brought nothing for Holden. We're shit parents. Fuck. We don't even have diapers."

"Lou, I will go to the shop tomorrow to buy the necessities until we get back home, okay? Stop freaking out before I do, you're meant to be better at this than me. You're the older one."

"That is such an idiot thing to say."

"But you love me anyway," he pecks his cheek. "You're wasting milk."

Louis rolls his eyes, resting back, closing his eyes and doing everything to ignore his squeaky bones from not moving for weeks and Harry's developing obsession with his ability to lactate.

He's happy to be awake, nevertheless.

➸

"Holden, I'm not going anywhere darling, you little leech."

Harry wakes up to a sight that makes his heart burst with joy. He wonders how he slept through the moment of getting Holden out of the incubator and to latch onto Louis' right nipple. Considering he's barely slept the past eight weeks, that's probably why. He decides not to be choked up over the fact that he's missed the grand moment and decides to be choked up over the fact that _Holden's finally out._

"I want to hold him," is the first thing Harry groggily gets out.

"Morning to you too, sunshine," Louis responds quietly from his place in bed, the sweetest smile on his face. "We tried to wake you but you were knocked out solid."

"'S the best sleep I've had in a while knowing that my boys are okay."

Louis half grimaces and half smiles. "I'm still not used to being in love with a shitbag like you."

"You are still my boy," Harry flutters his eyelashes, hands under his chin and a smile on his face.

He leans forward to watch Louis place Holden back on his nipple. His little eyes are closed and there's a bead of milk dripping down his chin. Harry thumbs away the spillage, the silence between the three of them relaxing and the pelting rain outside providing a cosy feeling. There is little sucking sounds coming from Holden but asides from that, it's peaceful and quiet.

Louis hums in content, looking at Harry's wet thumb. He watches the curly headed lad bring it up to his mouth before licking away the milk. Louis raises his eyebrows.

Harry's cheeks flush a bright red as he uses the exact same thumb and his index finger to fiddle with his bottom lip and make it look like he didn't do what he just did. Holden unlatches his lips from Louis nipple, somewhat saving Harry's ass as the green eyed man changes the topic by making grabby hands for Holden.

"Don't act like that didn't just happen, Styles," Louis' eyes glimmer with humour as he ever so gently places Holden in Harry's arms. He pulls his untied hospital gown back over his shoulders.

Well, Harry almost got away with it. He forgets all about it the minute Holden opens his beautiful blue eyes in his arms, staring back up at him.

"You're so beautiful, my flower," Harry strokes Holden's cheek, internally cursing when his soothing touch causes Holden to close his eyes and start drifting off into a sleep. He wants nothing but to stare into his eyes all day long. Harry looks back at a smirking Louis.

"You have a lactation kink, admit it."

"No I don't," Harry lies, clearing his throat and looking around the room.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you-"

"Do, I do, okay? Okay," Harry gives up, lightly thumbing at the wisps of light brunette hair on Holden's head poking out of his blue hat. "You ignite a lot of kinks in me. Hate kink, co-star kink, little kink-"

"Hey, I am not little," Louis folds his arms, glaring.

"Very debatable," Harry laughs.

"Shut up, you. Come here."

Louis waits for him to put Holden down in his little bed on the side, giving him a kiss on his small cheek. He waits until Harry's hovering over him once again to tangle his fingers in his hair and draw him in for a kiss.

"Lou, I have morning breath," Harry stops just before Louis' lips.

The smaller boy rolls his eyes, propping himself up. Harry moves away, watching as Louis brushes the hospital gown back off his shoulders, dropping the material until his chest is on display. Harry drags his tongue against his lips at the sight of Louis' nipples wet with milk.

"You little tease," Harry's eyes darken to a forest green as Louis tangles his fingers back in his hair, bringing his head closer to his left nipple. "Nancy could walk in."

Louis laughs. "Poor Nancy. She'd be freaked out."

Harry hums but doesn't stop his lips from latching onto his nipple, lapping up the leaking milk. He sucks on it harshly earning a wince and a whack on the back of his head. He nimbly apologises around Louis' nipple, drinking the liquid and revelling in the sweetness and warmth of it.

Louis squirms beneath him when Harry tucks a hand behind his left shoulder, bringing him even more forward, firm against his mouth causing the white liquid to seep out the corners of his mouth onto his chin. Louis stutters over the words he tries to get out, something along the lines of, "I think someone's at the door," and has to physically yank Harry off him.

Louis' pulling his gown back over his shoulders when the door's opening, Harry scrambling off him and wiping his chin on the hospital outfit earning a discontent frown from the blue eyed boy.

"I've gotten that porridge and water you requested," Nancy smiles, bringing in a tray of his breakfast. "I've put some fruit on there too. You need the vitamins."

"Thank you Nancy," Louis smiles as if what just happened didn't just happen.

"I also brought you a little update," she starts. "We are thinking of releasing you within the week depending on how well you do. It'll be sweet if we can release you on Tuesday with Holden but that's rather soon. If not, I'll rewrite the releases and put Holden down for when you leave."

Louis beams, scooping up a spoon full of porridge. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll leave you two to it."

When she leaves, Louis immediately picks the bowl of fruit off the tray in his lap and shoves it into Harry's hand.

"Here you go, health nut," Louis fills his mouth with porridge.

Harry mimics him all the whilst bringing a grape to his mouth and biting down on it.

"We have yet to fill in Holden's birth certificate," Harry lets him know.

"Wait, you're telling me that I _can_ put Nick down as the father?" Louis jokes, albeit an awful one. "Sorry, that was terrible,"

Harry rids the frown on his face, putting down the bowl of fruit. He takes a moment to look Louis in the eyes, grabbing one of his hands and twiddling with his fingers.

"Louis, I'm glad you are mine."

Louis snorts, "where's the ring? Is this a proposal? Hold your cock, Styles, it's far too soon."

"Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," Harry orders. "Going back to what I was saying, I am glad you are mine. I am glad you are okay and having this whole thing happen has scared me off my ass but I believe it's heaven's way of telling me to hurry up and officially make you mine before I lose you before I even have you. So, Louis?"

"Please don't be any more sappy," Louis pleads exaggeratedly.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Would you be my boyfriend?"

"You just don't know when to stop, do you?"

"No, so hurry up and be my boyfriend so we can hurry up and get married. Holden's already a bastard-"

"Harry!" Louis swats his arm. "Jesus fucking Christ, yes. Yes, yes, yes, now shut the fuck up."

Harry grins, cupping Louis' cheeks and kissing his lips. He's glad that Louis is officially his. _Fina-fucking-lly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, if you don't want to hear my bullshit excuse as to why it takes my ass f o r e v e r to update this fic all the damn time, here's a cupcake and rainbow flag. thank you for reading, I love you and thank you for the amazing support on this <3
> 
> if you do: I procrastinate too much, I'm simply shit at updating, I write new fics when I'm still working others and honestly, I never post any chapter until it's proof read the fuck out of and written good enough for you guys :) I love writing, I am a writer and I want to be a better writer by getting better with my updates starting now. Here's a cupcake and a rainbow flag. Thank you for reading, I love you and thank you for the amazing support on this <3
> 
> p.s. this chapter title. That is all.
> 
> Much love .x
> 
> Updated note: Okay, so there WAS meant to be a twist in here but I decided it was too soon which only means this fic will drag out by more chapters anyway :)


	16. Kissing and Killing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST ANGST ANGST peak angst, imma say no more :)
> 
> Updated note: Sorry this update was so off schedule. There really was nothing I could do about it. College has to come first sadlyish :/

Louis smiles watching Holden asleep on his thighs, rubbing his tiny stomach and being careful with the clip on his bellybutton through his little onesie. Then gives a dramatic roll of the eyes when his phone screen is lighting up with a text from Harry. He gets up and puts Holden in his bed, flopping back down on his own.

 **Shitbag: I** **don't** **know** **what** **I'm** **supposed to buy**

They're both edging on insane thinking they can raise a baby on their own. The best Louis can do is wait for his mum to pick up the twins from school and visit him with all the tips for parenthood. When they fly back to LA, that's a whole other story.

 **Dicklinson:** ****Ffs** **

Louis doesn't waste his fingers anymore, calling Harry instead. The curly headed lad picks up on the fourth ring and Louis is surprised he doesn't slam his finger on the answer button straight away given how eager he's been to have a baby.

_"Sorry Lou, I got a hanger stuck in my sweater."_

The blue eyed boy deadpans the white hospital wall then shakes his head.

"Powder - Baby Johnson's please."

" _Got it already."_

"Diapers - Pampers not the shit kind."

_"Got that already too."_

"Dummies, cotton buds, wipers?"

_"Yep, yep and yep."_

"Harry?" Louis raises his eyebrows.

_"Yeah?"_

"Why the fuck did you text me then?"

Louis knows Harry's mouth is opening and closing on the other line, excuse-less and looking stupid in public. Except, he's not one hundred percent excuse-less.

 _"I love you_ _ _and__ _ _ _not___ _ _ _ _having____ _ _ _ _ _you_____ _ _ _ _ _ _in______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _my_______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _sight________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _scares_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _me...__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _I___________ ____________just____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _wanted_____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _to______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _hear_______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _that________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _you're_________________ __________________okay."__________________

Louis' breath gets caught in his throat, caught off guard. He still hasn't gotten used to the _I love you's_ but he's just about used to it that he doesn't scold Harry for being sappy in neutral moments. He fiddles with the sheets covering his legs with his free hands, looking down.

"Stop being paranoid," he looks at Holden, the baby starting to twitch in his own little bed. He's due for a feed then a nappy change. "I'm not going anywhere. Now hurry up and come back. See you soon," he goes to end the call but Harry is stopping him.

 _"Wait wait wait-_ _"_

"What? If you're gonna ask if I want anything to eat, I'd like a family sized pack of the original Doritos, M&M's without the nuts and a beer."

He hears Harry laugh on the other side and the loud sound of a packet being picked up and thrown into the trolley.

 _"Sorted, and_ _I was going to say you didn't say I love you back._ __.._ _ _"_

Louis rolls his eyes, picking his aching body up and out of the hospital bed and waddling his way over to Holden who's seconds away from belting out his lungs in a cry that will surely deafen the blue eyed parent.

"I love you," he winces as he bends down to get fresh cotton pads out of the hospital bag Harry supplied him with, caesarean cut still sore. "But you're still a shitbag."

_"I'll take it. Speak to you soon Lou."_

"Yep, bye," Louis squeaks out as his ears begin to hurt from the screech out of Holden.

He's already got a hammering headache that just doesn't suit him and he reckons if Holden cries anymore, his head will break. Fumbling with his hospital gown quickly, he draws the top strings, carefully picking his baby boy up and laying back down in his bed.

"It's okay, bug," he guides Holden's mouth to his chest. "Good thing you don't have to rely on daddy to feed you. He'd give you that whacko health nut rubbish," Louis laughs to himself, thankful when Holden's cries dim down to quiet sucking noises.

Just as Louis closes his eyes to enjoy the peace and quiet in the room further, he's got a facetime call coming in through Lottie that he answers despite the bags under his eyes.

"Hey babe-"

_"Jesus fucking- why do I have to find out through one of the nurse's twitter page who's one of your fans that you're okay? I am so mad at you right now but I am so thankful I get to see your stupid face again albeit through a screen- wait. Woah, are you nursing?"_

Judging from the background, Louis knows Lottie is back in LA and on set. The entire show has been postponed after the accident and all they've really been doing on set is writing further and discussing plot twists and the actor part of Louis right now wants nothing more than to go back and act. It doesn't matter if he's got to haul a crying Holden on set, he wants to be able to do his job and look after his baby boy at the same time. It's a lot to ask for, but it's not unobtainable.

"Yeah, which sort of sucks 'cause it means I definitely have to get up in the middle of the night to feed Holden. That shitbag gets to sleep through it all."

_"You seriously underestimate Harry, bro. I mean, you love him but you should really get to know him better. He'll be up and beside you, I can guarantee. How's baby Holden?"_

"He's doing great, and I know Harry well enough, Lottie. He's good for me just as much as he is bad. He makes me be extra and extreme in situations and he also makes me feel like excessively cuddling with him on rainy days. He's the idiot that has made me soft. I feel soft right now. Do I look soft? I sound soft..." he gets lost in his track of thoughts.

Lottie starts to laugh, throwing her head back. Louis' able to see the room door open and close behind her, none other than Zayn and Liam entering. He quickly becomes the centre of attention.

 _"Louis! You need to come back soon!"_ Liam smiles brightly, wrapping an arm around Lottie and leaning closer to the screen. _"We literally got the tiers of a cake planned out and a really shitty banner that I made myself to hang up, alongside Zayn's crazy artistic one that puts mine to shame. And I really want to meet baby Holden. I got some cute stuff for him."_

 _"You look good for someone who's waking up every night,"_ Zayn lets the thought slip even though it's a  half lie. Louis knows the bags under his eyes are terrible. _"Babe, where's H?"_

"Oh," Louis pauses, holding Holden against his shoulder and rubbing his back to burp him mid feed. "He's out getting some stuff for Holds here."

Zayn snorts. _"By some stuff do you mean the entire store because that's what I reckon he's getting. Let Li and I see Holden's little face. That's my Godson,"_ Zayn leans in closer to the screen, huddling up against Liam and Lottie. _"Fifty dollars his eyes will be green,"_ he bets them.

Louis' about to gently turn Holden around and lift him up to show them when he's feeling none other than puke soaking the back of his hospital gown and seeping through the material onto his skin. His face scrunches up in disgust as he pulls Holden away and lays him on his lap, knocking his phone down from against the spare pillow before him. The blue eyed boy groans, picking his phone up and facing Lottie, Liam and Zayn again

"I think I'm gonna go..." he squirms when the wet patch on his back starts to grow cold. "Holden threw up on me, Harry will be back soon and hopefully mum will stop by too with the girls and Earnest."

 _"Let mum know I miss her,"_ Lottie talks. _"We gotta head back on set. The show may be postponed but we still got a lot of work to do."_

 _"Yeah, Christopher's been acting pretty chill but we know inside he's crying. His two stars haven't come back yet,"_ Liam tells Louis.

 _"Hopefully you and H come back soon?"_ Zayn questions optimistically.

Louis smiles, nodding his head. "God, I miss the everyday shit on set. With Holden it will physically be everyday shit but I want more than anything to come back, believe me. Here guys, have a good look at him," he grabs his phone, flipping the camera. "He's got puke on his mouth, specially for you."

The blue eyed parent expects the _aww_ from Liam, the _he's beautiful_ from Zayn and Lottie's _I've missed his little face_ because Holden is beautiful. Louis starts to picture him in the fifteen all in ones he knows Harry has gone and picked up, no doubt all with stupid quotes that Louis refuses to admit are funny because the cheesiness is overdone a tad bit.

He thumbs at the puke on Holden's lip, his baby boy looking back up at him and the phone, full and content. His little eyelids start to droop, tiny fists clenching up.

"Yeah, that's the product of Harry and I," he laughs lightly. "I must say, Holden wasn't planned but he's perfect."

They all take a moment longer to stare at the sleepy baby before Louis flips the camera back on him.

"Anyway, I'll update you all later on what's going on in terms of when we're coming back home. Bye Lots, bye Li and Zayn."

He gets a wave from Liam and _bye's_ from Lottie and Zayn before he's ending the call, immediately sighing and narrowing his eyes at the sleeping Holden in his lap. He gets to sleep whilst Louis has to get up, change out of his hospital gown, ask Nancy for a new one, wipe the back of his shoulder and change. Louis loves him nonetheless, kissing him and placing him back in his smaller bed so that he isn't near to sides without safety barriers.

Just as he wraps Holden in his hospital blanket after struggling to get up, Harry is inching through the door slowly, trying to fit through with the four massive shopping carrier bags stuffed to the brim he has. Louis raises his eyebrows.

"You know, I'm not even surprised," is all Louis says as he watches Harry set the bags down seeing the numerous baby clothes sticking out of the top. He's greeted with the packet of Doritos he asked for flying to his face which he catches with a millisecond to spare. "Woah. Thanks."

Harry's got a smile on his face that's pretty much aimless and Louis knows he doing that thing where he just stares for no reason.

"Oi, quit it. What's up?"

Harry shakes his head, approaching Louis. "Nothing. Can't I stare at my boyfriend without being questioned?" He goes to wrap his arms around Louis' middle but Louis bats his hands away.

"Stop. Holden puked down my back."

Harry snorts and laughs accidentally, earning a glare from Louis.

"What's so funny, shitbag?"

"Nothing, just..." he laughs again, pulling Louis against him despite the puke. "You did the same thing to me just before you found out you were pregnant with Holden."

Louis moulds into his hug, letting Harry rub his back soothingly and offer some comfort that he hasn't had internally freaking out over the idea of raising Holden. He may be getting somewhat easy nights now by a miracle (because Nancy is gold and came in during her night shift last night to change Holden's nappy for him) but he knows he won't be soon.

"I remember," Louis rolls his eyes, tucking his arms underneath Harry's and locking his fingers behind Harry's back. "It was all over Twitter. God, I hated you so much back then."

Harry rests his chin on top of Louis' head. "You say hated in past tense. Does that mean you one hundred percent don't hate me anymore?"

"Oh, I still hate you. You've sentenced me to many sleepless night."

"Hey," the curly headed lad pouts, drawing back to look Louis in the face, the smaller boy looking up at him. "Without your bum I wouldn't have been able too. Baby, it takes two."

"Stop it," Louis straight faces him.

"Stop what?" Harry purposely acts like he doesn't know what Louis is talking about, a smirk playing on his lips as he brings Louis' front impeccably closer to his.

"Don't call me baby. Don't even start with the pet names. We're not gonna be that couple, heck, I can't believe I just referred to us as a couple. I mean-"

The green eyed lad cuts him off with a kiss, leaning down and clasping his lips between his. The smaller boy immediately kisses back on instinct, hands coming up to rest on either side of his jaw. His eyes droop close, Harry's hands lifting him up by the waist onto the tips of his toes so that he's almost the same height.

"If I want to call you baby, I will. Understand?"

Louis stares him in the eyes, the forest green glimmering with happiness and healthiness and in that moment Louis is glad that Harry's the father to his kid and nobody else, even if all Louis has done since the first time they met is eat, sleep and breath hate towards him. There's a tiny part of Louis that still hates him for being the reason of wasting five years hating someone, if that's even coherent. But looking Harry in the eyes now is like looking into a mirror - Louis sort of hates his own self a little for wasting five years hating Harry. Harry who still has, in fact, the most beautiful face Louis has ever come across in his life.

"Yeah..." Louis blinks, lost in a trance that Harry shakes him out of by kissing his neck.

"Someone's just texted you," Harry lets him know in between a kiss, catching sight of the blue eyed boy's phone lighting up on the hospital bed.

It's the perfect chance for Louis to elbow Harry away, the kisses on his neck twisting his stomach and leaving him a little light headed. It's the wrong moment to get hot over the feeling of lips on his neck and the explicit thoughts that run through his head because of it.

Harry follows him like a lost puppy, sitting on the bed and pulling Louis onto his lap as he unlocks his phone. Louis' actually got two texts, one from his mum and one from Lottie.

**Mum: Hey darling, sorry I'm not calling instead. I'm stuck in one of Dan's meetings at work. I won't be able to pick up the girls from school today so Mary their baby sitter will do. It just means that when I visit you on the way back from work, the girls won't be with me. Anyway lovely, I'll see you soon bright and awake I hope. I love and miss you loads and I hope Holden and Harry are doing well. Sorry I've barely seen you since you've been okay, I'm struggling a little bit with time. See you soon baby xx**

Louis smiles, happy to hear from his mum. He's only seen her once since he's been awake and misses her tons too but he understands that she's got the kids to look after. He types back an answer.

**Louis: Hi mum :) Don't apologise you're a mother and time is scarce. I don't love you any less. Holden and Harry are doing great, Hazza's actually hovering over the screen as I type back to you**

"Heyyy," Harry drags out only to get elbowed in the stomach.

**I love and miss you too including the girls and Earnest and when I get discharged I promise to visit them. See you soon :) x**

The second text is from Lottie asking him to send some pictures of Holden, pictures that he hasn't yet taken. At the thought Louis switches to the camera app, sliding off Harry's lap and padding his feet over to their sleeping baby boy.

"Hi bug, sorry to creep on you whilst you're sleeping," he sneaks a picture, pulling the blanket away from Holden's face a bit. "Auntie wants to have some pictures of you and so do I," he ignores the way Harry's arms wrap around him. Harry's been really touchy lately. "'M gonna set you as my background picture and I also want to send some to grandma."

"Don't mind mama," Harry rests his head on Louis' shoulder. "In terms of the next eighteen years of your life. I promise I won't take pictures when you have a little bit of dried vomit on your chin."

Harry gets the third elbow to his stomach at that which really he expected and decides to stop being a nuisance and grab the pack of wipers he bought out of one of the shopping bags and wipe the remaining puke off Holden's chin. Louis glares when one picture is accompanied with Harry's overly large hand and the wiper peaking out in the corner. He quickly resumes Holden's mini photo shoot, selecting a handful of the best photos (even though they're pretty much all the same, Holden sleeping) and sending them to not only Lottie but his mum, the girls and the cast back home.

He'll attack Holden with another mini photoshoot when he's awake and in one of the crazy onesies Harry has purchased for him. Feeling the sudden urge to go through the all in ones and little socks and bibs Harry has gotten Holden and lay a set out for Holden's next diaper change, Louis springs over to the numerous shopping bags.

"Hazza, I'm hoping you love me and Holds enough that you didn't make us those kind of parents who get onesies with corny jokes on the front- and you did," he pulls out a onesie with a cheesy joke printed on the front.

Before he starts to glare at Harry though he pulls out numerous other all in ones, one a beautiful shade of blue much like his and Holden's eyes lined with white fur with little paws and feet and a hood with little ears. Another one is white with cartoon bananas printed all over it which Louis rolls his eyes too because _typical Harry_. There are numerous non cheesy all in ones in there which makes Louis' heart flutter.

Harry cared enough to listen to his annoying complaints about everything and it may just be the overwhelming fact that he's _just had a baby_ as to why Louis' feeling so emotional today but either way, he falls that little bit more for Harry.

"I sort of made us those parents," Harry sits next to him on the floor, "but I also sort of didn't. I thought we could meet each other half way."

Louis smiles, leaning over to wrap his arms around Harry in a hug. Then he picks out an all in one with the feet and a plain coloured bib, laying them to the side just as the door knocks.

They both look up to see who it is and smile when they see it's Nancy, Harry opening the door for her.  
  
"Hi Nancy," Louis gets up, noticing the papers in her hand.

"Hi boys," she smiles vibrantly. "I have baby Holden's birth certificate I need you to fill in. I figured now is the right time since all is going well."

She hands them the birth certificate with a clipboard and a pen, the two taking a seat on the hospital bed. Staring at the certificate is final proof to Louis that Holden is real, that he in fact is going to go home very soon and raise a kid and he's going to be doing it with Harry whilst trying to lie again to the world about who the father of his child is. He doesn't even begin to start thinking what will happen if Holden starts to look anymore like Harry than he already does. It's to Louis' misfortune that Holden has stolen more of Harry's physical traits than his.

"Jay?" Louis questions in response after seeing Harry fill in Holden's middle name.

Harry smiles, kissing him on the cheek. "After Johannah."

Louis' all choked up now, swallowing down the lump in his throat from holding back the happy tears that want to come out. He hates crying. He returns the kiss on the cheek Harry gives him with a kiss on his lips, a silent thank you. When Louis turns back to face the birth certificate and Harry's got the pen hovering over Holden's surname but not writing anything, Louis knows immediately whose surname he wants Holden to have.

"Styles. Holden Jay Styles. He looks like you and he's already got my mum's abbreviated name, so Styles. Just, no one can know, okay?"

Harry looks at him fondly. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah... Besides, I'll probably end up stealing your surname soon enough if you keep making me hate you less everyday."

"Oh shush, you love me."

"Today I really fucking do."

➸

"Hazza, you got poop on your hand."

"What?"

"Hi my lovelies!" Johannah stands in the door way, elegant with her work clothes on and glossy heels. Louis still thinks she's beautiful even though she looks exhausted given it's just turned dark outside and it's been a long Monday.

"Hi mum," Louis smiles from where he's stood beside Harry at Holden's bed, Harry who's grimacing at the faeces on his hand. "God damn it," Louis mutters under his breath, grabbing a clean wiper, tossing it at Harry's face and opting to clean Holden himself.

"Hey, I was getting the hang of th-"

Holden starts to cry at the coldness and Louis is a wholly pissed off that his mum has walked in on Harry doing a shit job of changing Holden's nappy. He wants his mum to know that they are, in fact, capable of taking care of her grandson.

"Harry, the baby powder please."

Harry hands him it straight away. He's much better off supplying Louis with the things he needs instead of cleaning poop.

"Goodness, how long does it take you to change a nappy?" Johannah jokes, stepping into the room and approaching her family. "How's my beautiful grandson doing?" She strokes Holden's clenched fists looking perfectly fine even though the screeching cries are surely cutting through her ear drums.

Louis is suffering, internally panicking when he straps Holden's nappy and buttons up his new all in one but he's still crying.

Johannah picks her grandson up gently. "Don't cry, darling. Grandma's here," she lightly sways him in her arms, kissing Holden on the cheek, rocking him and taking a seat on the hospital bed.

"Honey, all he needs is a little rock."

Louis pulls his hands from his ears, watching his mum rock Holden to quiet whimpers until he's blinking with his big blue eyes that look that littlest bit greener already. The blue eyed parent drops his jaw.

"Mum you are an angel sent from heaven," he closes his mouth before Harry gets the urge to tell him to or do it for him. "Harry, what the fuck? You didn't even unfold the God damn wiper properly."

Harry pouts, "but you let go of his legs before I could."

"Stop making excuses you bloody nuisance," Louis turns to face his mum. "Thank you, mum."

"I am not a nuisance, that's rude."

"Harry, shut up."

"Louis, that's just fucking-"

Johannah looks up at them. "Knock it off, the two of you."

Harry and Louis look down shamefully, Louis more so than Harry for calling him a nuisance.

"Louis, Harry tried, be grateful. Some parents walk away," Johannah lightly scolds him. "Turn on the TV, occupy yourselves and stop bickering. Be respectful to Holden."

The two actors sigh, both silently agreeing that the bickering is just flat out rude to Holden even though all he can hear are sounds.

The only interesting channel to watch is the news which usually is just a recipe for disaster for them but they could do with a little break from Holden as much as they love him. It's only been a day and a bit of the real hard work and for Louis to just come out of a coma and straight into parenthood is very demanding. Harry, on the other hand, has been having a dandy time shopping. Louis reckons he could do more, but he's already doing a lot by not complaining about the every single moment Louis is sarcastic and rude to him.

Harry lets Louis sit on the spare chair in the room, taking a seat on the floor before him and accepting Louis' fingers in his hair massaging his scalp. He may be royally irritated by Louis but a scalp massage feels good right now. His head hurts from Holden's cries just before. 

A solid half an hour passes by of little conversations between the three of them, mainly on how beautiful Holden is whilst the child sleeps, what's going on with Christopher and the show and if Anne and Gemma have met Holden yet. They haven't, don't even know about him and Harry immediately feels shit, giving them an update phone call and sending the pictures Louis took of Holden to them. He gives Gemma permission to slap him for not telling them because he has no excuse to forget to.

It's an hour before the visiting period is over, Johannah kissing the two goodbye as she has to release Mary from a long day of baby sitting and needs to cook dinner for the family. The two new parents are snacking on nothing but junk food (in which Louis is proud of Harry) and slowly dying of bordom watching crap on the news when Holden is all that's _on_ the news.

It's expected, it really is. It's no secret Louis has had Holden and his twitter notifs have been blowing up with congratulations from the fans and his friends but no one has actually seen Holden. That is until now. Harry rolls his eyes at how it's been nothing but a handful of hours since Louis sent the pictures of Holden to his family and it's already on the news. Then he realises exctly what that means.

"Fucking Lottie," Louis grabs his phone, checking his notifications and as guessed, he's tagged in his sister's latest tweet.

**_New addition to the family <3 This is baby Holden guys, ain't he cute? I'm in love!! Thank you @Louis_Tomlinson for my beautiful nephew xx_ **

Then there's one of the exact photos Louis took of Holden underneath. Louis would be mildly okay with it, eventually there will be pictures of Holden all over the internet, but because of what he's hearing on the news, Louis loses all peace of mind.

_"There is a substantial amount of speculation occurring within the fanbase around a question that arose before last year ended. Is Harry Styles the unknown father of Louis Tomlinson's baby? Styles tweeted out shortly after the first round of speculation began and concluded that he was not the father of the SULK star's baby. However, a recent tweet from Louis Tomlinson's sister, Lottie Tomlinson, has deemed Styles' denial solidly controversial. Fans believe that he is in fact the father of Louis Tomlinson's baby and that there has been an ongoing scandal ever since Styles broke the news at the Summer Awards last year. The picture of Holden, the two month old baby that has caused this controversy, has been critically analysed and the fans have concluded that he must be Harry Styles' child - he looks significantly and exactly like him when he was a baby."_

Louis' stomach churns in a way it hasn't done before, not even at hearing the speculation for the first time. He's crazy thinking he could ever hide the truth in the first place.

"Fucking Lottie!"

Harry rubs his thigh. "Louis, I'm sure she didn't mean it-"

"Did Nick just fucking retweet it?!"

"Lou, you're going to wake Holden."

"Does it not bother you?!" Louis turns to face him, angry and about to burst out in tears out of frustration. "Harry, I'm fucked! You screwed me over at the Summer Awards! If you didn't do what you did this stupid scandal would have been kept a secret! I could have gone away for a year when I failed to abort, had Holden and no one would have known!"

Harry rips his arms away from Louis' thigh, fury written all over his face as he stands up to face Louis sitting down before him.

"You're fucking kidding me! What is it with you and secrets?! God, you're so selfish! Do you hear yourself?! You're not talking about a doll, you're talking about a baby! _Our_ baby! You're talking about taking him away from me! What do you think would happen?! You'd have Holden, come back and all would go back to normal?! You can't lie about a child, for fuck's sake! You'd still end up here now!"

Louis looks like he's been hit in the face with a brick and has seen a ghost, skin growing awfully pale until he looks sick, seething and silent. Harry doesn't stop there.

"It's all about you, isn't it? It's all about what you want, no, you don't care about me or Holden. If there was a damn ounce in you that truly cared you wouldn't have ever suggested we lie. You wouldn't have lied in the first place, what, so you could keep your reputation 'cause you fucked the person you hate?"

"I told you it wasn't about my reputation!"

"And that's another fucking lie! You and your fucking lies! You don't want the world to know the truth because it's too late to still look innocent! You're not fucking innocent, Louis! You're a liar! You screwed over Nick, you screwed over me and all you care about is the fact that I screwed over you! If I didn't do what I did I can guarantee you would have never told me that Holden's mine! I'd still think he's Nick's! How does that make me feel, Louis?! Do you care enough to hear?!"

"I do care-"

But Harry ignores the tears streaming down Louis' face. Holden starts to scream from his bed.

"You don't care shit all! You're just a self serving son of a bitch and I hate myself for falling into your trap! I agreed with you that we should lie about Holden, yes, I admit that but I never wanted to! _You_ did! _You_ initiated it! You, you, you! Everything is you! You don't care about anyone _but_ you!" Harry tears Louis' hands off the hem of his shirt.

"Hazza, I _do_ care," Louis cries, standing up to place his hands on Harry's cheeks but the latter only steps back.

"You don't even love me! If you did, you wouldn't lie to my face!"

"I'm not lying, I do care!" It's like chasing something he's not able to catch, mentally and physically. He's chasing after Harry's acceptance and after the feeling of his lips but he isn't getting either. "I promise you, Hazza, I do care," he breaks down, tears spilling onto the floor.

"Stop it! Stop fucking lying to my face!"

"I'm not! Please, _please_ believe me, I'm not!"

"You're no good for me," Harry shakes his head, grabbing his coat and taking cautious steps away. "You're no good for Holden."

Louis watches as he puts his coat on, kissing his wailing Holden and pressing his forehead against his, closing his eyes and whispering a prayer to their baby boy.

"Daddy loves you."

And Louis watches how Harry starts to leave.

"Hazza, Hazza no. No!"

"Go cry to yourself, Louis, that's who you only care about."

Harry grabs his phone, refusing to look at Holden again in fear that he'll burst out crying like Louis has.

"Hazza, d-don't walk away from Holden, p-please," Louis begs, dropping to his knees on the cold hard floor as his body is wrecked with sobs, slumping against the bed and heart suffocating. He doesn't have the strength to get back up. Holden's cries magnify the sound of his heart shattering.

"I'm not walking away from Holden," Harry avoids looking at Louis, scrolling through his contacts to find the one person he's looking for. "I'm walking away from you. Pick yourself up off the damn floor and have some dignity."

Louis chokes on his sobs, heart absolutely shattering as Harry's hand comes down to open the door, ready to leave.

"W-Where are you going?" Louis asks through his tears, looking at Harry with one last beg in his eyes.

"To get a lawyer."

"W-What d-do you mean?"

"You're no good for Holden," Harry repeats, finally coming to look him in the eyes.

It's like the Harry Louis has known is no longer there. All Louis sees is a wall, one that he can't get through. Louis finally understands what Harry means when he looks straight back into those sage green eyes, less tears spilling from them than his.

"No. No! NO! YOU CAN'T TAKE HIM FROM ME! _NO!_ "

"Yeah... I can," Harry finally lets his tears spill over seeing the person he loves crumble to nothing but pieces. Splinters. "I will," he opens the door, turning his back on Louis and apologising under his breath for doing this to the person he loves, but Louis and his lies are no good for him and Holden.

"How can you go from kissing me to killing me?!" Louis shouts, picking himself up and clenching his fists. "How can you do it so easily?!"

"You think this is easy?!" Harry turns around, back to the doctors, nurses and patients outside who have heard the commotion. "You think watching you in tears right now is easy?! Louis, I love you! God damn it, I love you but you're the worst thing for Holden and I to have right now! I love you but you _need_ to change!"

"Harry, _please!_ " Louis tries one last final time in front of the nurse who comes in to soothe Holden appalled that they'd neglect their baby for an argument. Except, it's not an argument. It's the end. Louis can see it in Harry's eyes. His voice is almost gone but he still begs through his cries. "You c-can't take Holden from m-me! What- w-what a-am I supposed to do?..."

Harry opens his mouth one last time.

"Your job."

Louis watches as he starts to step back through the door. There's only one word left he hears from Harry right before the door slams shut and he's gone.

_"Sulk."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... THIS is what inspired the title SULK. 
> 
> Well guys, I hoped you liked this chapter :) This chapter is the peak of the entire fic so the end is near, not sure how near, this will probably be completed by the end of November or December, definitely before the New Years. Anyways, I hope you're all having a good one :) 
> 
> HELLA IMPORTANT NOTE/ANNOUNCEMENT:
> 
> So I have a special surprise for you guys hehe :D I know some of you read Larriegal's Blue Ice which is an amazing fic, if you haven't read it yet, go read it :) Well, basically, her and I have been in contact and we've been talking about a fic idea and I'm super happy to tell you guys that we're gonna FUCKING COLLAB and write a whole fic together. I'm so fucking excited yo xD You heard it here first
> 
> We're not sure when the first chapter will be up as we're still planning and stuff but keep an eye out :) I'll also update you on what's going on when I update this next.
> 
> Much love <3
> 
> Updated note: I listened to Moments when I proof read the last part and I'm telling you... don't do it.


	17. Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

_"Tell me something about yourself," Harry brushes the strands out of the blue eyed boy's face._

_Louis rests his head on the curly headed lad's chest. "My boyfriend's also my manager."_

_Harry hisses. "Ouch, and you still left with me last night?"_

_"Obviously," Louis responds, shoving his face into the celebrity's chest as the sun streams into the room. "The most he'll do is mope about, maybe send a couple daggers my way and then he'll be fine in a week or so. He'll never let me go - I'm his prized possession."_

_"What makes you so special, other than your pretty little face and body?" The curly headed lad wraps his arms around Louis' waist, pulling him on top of him under the sheets._

_"Well," Louis folds his arms on Harry's chest, resting his head on them. "He reckons in a couple of years I'll be at your level acting wise. I kinda laugh in his face every time he says it. I don't care about how big or small I am, I just want to act."_

_"Were you acting last night?" Harry thumbs at his lower back. "Or were those really pornstar worthy moans coming from your lips?"_

_He receives a swat to the chin, but then Louis' lips are coming up to kiss his._

_"I can also have babies," the blue eyed boy whispers against his mouth. "Personally, I don't think it's anything special, just a barrier in the way of no condom sex. But my boyfriend really, really wants a baby."_

_"Yet you lay with me in bed," Harry smirks, nosing at Louis' cheek. "Naked and pliant."_

_"Who said I wanted a baby, though?" Louis smiles back innocently, letting Harry flip him over so he's underneath him. "And take full advantage of me being pliant. It only happens once in a while and only for very special people."_

_Harry kisses at his neck, arms resting on either side of his head. "Why don't you break up with your boyfriend?"_

_"'Cause I'm selfish," Louis answers, stretching his neck for Harry. "And I like the look on his face when another guy wants me. Now stop talking."_

➸

Harry wakes up in tears, but he also laughs. Laughs because Louis' been selfish for too long and if he ever changes, it will be a miracle, laughs sadly because if he didn't erase Louis out of his mind after that morning, he wouldn't have forgotten about his little special quality. If he had simply remembered, he never would have touched Louis the morning they rehearsed that kissing scene, at least not without a condom.

Although at the same time, Harry wouldn't have Holden, but then again, he wouldn't have to be doing something that will break his baby boy's heart when he's older.

It's a miserable Tuesday, outside dark and gloomy. The clouds are about to burst out with rain. The only bright thing about the day is that Holden is finally able to leave the hospital, so Harry forces himself out of the hotel bed, having a shower, stirring up a tea and leaving as soon as possible. He takes a cab to the nearest Ikea, purchasing a car seat, and goes directly to the hospital.

He doesn't want to be anywhere near Louis in his state of mind. Doesn't want to look at his face, doesn't want to feel guilty for doing what is best for Holden and him. He's got an important missed call on his phone from the lawyer he contacted last night when he approaches Nancy in the hallway. He knows he's going to be dragging Holden into a war, but for now he wants to take him back to their hotel room, give the lawyer a call back, and spend the rest of the day learning the basics of parenthood.

"Hi, Mr. Styles," Nancy greets him, ushering him to come with her to Louis' and Holden's hospital room. Although, she doesn't have the vibrant smile Harry has gotten used to. He doesn't question it, greeting her back.

"Hi Nancy, how has your morning been so far?" He smiles, following her down the hallways.

"It's been treating me really well actually. Had a familiar visitor to one of our patients bring in a coffee which was very kind. My husband and I booked a rare, out of the blue flight to Berlin to see the family. I'm very excited."

"That's lovely to hear," Harry's smile falters as they come to a stop outside of the hospital room. Louis is sleeping and Harry is thankful, he doesn't want to be screamed at, or cried to, anything that will enhance the guilt that he's been feeling since he got back to the hotel room last night.

"Would you like me to wake Louis up or-"

"No," Harry responds quickly. "I mean, let him rest. I'll just take Holden," he takes a quiet step into the dark room.

Holden is asleep too in one of the cheesy onesies Harry got him yesterday and with a little hat and mittens on. The curly headed lad wants to smile, but he's too heartbroken to appreciate the one unselfish thing Louis has done. With gentle hands, he lifts Holden up slowly, careful not to wake him up, and brings him to rest in the car seat. He straps him in, covering him in his little blue blanket, then he leaves the room after picking up two of the shopping bags on the floor with his spare hand and after giving one last glance at Louis. Harry looks down at Holden guiltily and then back to Louis.

"I love you," he whispers although to a brick wall and ignores the way Louis moves in his sleep, stepping out of the room before anything more can happen.

Nancy helps him by picking up the two remaining shopping bags, shutting the door behind them, but before they start to walk away from the room, she stops him.

"Before you sign Holden out, I have something worrying but important to tell you," Nancy tells him, face evidently worried.

Harry tilts his head in confusion, not having a single idea what could be so worrying at this point in their lives other than the fact he's going to meet with a lawyer who's going to help him win full custody over Holden.

"I don't want to do this in the middle of the hallway, that's completely unprofessional anyway. Please come with me."

She leads him into an empty patient room, putting the bags down on the floor. Harry mimics her actions, placing Holden at his feet.

"The hospital knows that Louis drunk whilst he was pregnant. He filled it in on one of the forms we gave him to fill up after he woke up," she starts. "He didn't state how much and it didn't really scare us when baby Holden came out. Other than the breathing problems he had and other common premature birth issues, he was perfectly fine."

Harry nods his head, not seeing what could be wrong. His gut stirs though, he's got a feeling something definitely is wrong, a horrible feeling of dread.

"We ran some necessary tests we do just before a premature baby, or any baby rather, is discharged. We checked his lungs for example and they're healthy, everything is perfectly normal... except his hearing."

Harry blinks, not sure if he's really hearing what he's hearing. "What?"

"We believe his hearing is impaired. More so in the left ear than the right," Nancy places a hand on his arm for comfort. "We don't know if it will stay like that or if he will go completely deaf as he grows, it's too soon to tell. We suspect he has fetal alcohol syndrome as a result of Louis' drinking during the pregnant. We believe that Holden will have anything from learning disabilities to epilepsy, weight issues to heart problems, we won't actually know until he's older. It's not too common that a baby develops F.A.S., but when a baby does, it's vital they're under critical care at least for the first few years of their life. I understand that you don't reside here in London so when you go back home, please immediately get Holden a stay-at-home doctor who can monitor him as he grows," she finishes, eyes awfully sympathetic as Harry starts to tear up.

He doesn't want the sympathy, he's too fragile inside for anyone to feel sorry for him. The sympathy makes him feel even more worse so he doesn't dare look into her eyes. He swallows down the lump in his throat, blocks the anger banging in his heart towards Louis. He wants more than anything right now to get full custody of Holden. He picks the car seat with Holden up and the two bags, inhaling deeply.

"Thank you..." he tries not to let his voice waver. "I will. Thank you for all your help, Nancy. Please let Louis know that I'm at the hotel with Holden and uh, that he needs to find a lawyer."

It's pretty shitty for him to pass the message through Nancy, but Harry's done. He's so fucking done. So he signs Holden out with Nancy, stepping through the hospital doors with the bags and being swarmed with paparazzi who only question why he has Louis' baby. Inside he's laughing, because a fucking storm is coming.

And so is the truth.

➸

Harry shuts the door, pressing his back to it and sliding down. He looks at Holden in his car seat, shifting awake, and Harry's sure he's going to cry for a feed. He doesn't even have baby milk formula. It's already going so wrong.

The green eyed lad fumbles for his phone in his pocket, scrolling through his contacts list. He doesn't know who to call, everyone is overseas apart from Johannah, but he doesn't think it's okay to call her given what he's going to do to Louis. All Harry knows is he refuses to take Holden out in the rain that pours down outside.

It's by his luck that he finds Ed in his contacts - he forgot he had his number because it's been so long. He hits the call button but Ed doesn't pick up. Harry's desperate though, so he tries again, and again until the singer is picking up the phone and Harry's on the cusp of tears due to frustration.

"Please tell me you're in London," is the first thing Harry says, each part of him growing all the more panicked when Holden's face starts to scrunch up.

_"Jesus, it's been, what? A year. Not even a hello?"_ Ed's clearly joking, but Harry doesn't have the heart to joke back. _"Yeah mate, having a jamming session with my mates. What's up?"_

Harry doesn't even know where to start. Too, too much has happened in the last nine months and he doesn't know if explaining it briefly will suffice. "I, uh, Ed, I... I need baby milk."

There's a laugh on the other side of the line. _"What?"_

"Ed, I know it's been a while and a lot has happened in that while... like I have a kid now," he grips his hair as the first cries start to come out of Holden. "And, uh," he starts to sweat with anxiety. "I just took him from his mother and I don't know how to do any of this, Ed, please come here," he starts to cry, hiding his face as Holden starts to wail.

Then he realises he's already doing a terrible job as a parent by not taking Holden out of the car seat and rocking him in an attempt to soothe him. He scrambles for the buckle of the belt as Holden's fists turn white from clenching them so hard. Harry's heart races in his chest.

_"Jesus fucking- do you actually have a kid? I thought it was just Louis?"_

Harry doesn't respond, tears bursting out of his eyes as he frantically moves the blanket completely off Holden, shaking with fear. "Shh, it's okay, I promise it's okay, daddy just needs to get you some milk. I'm so sorry baby boy, it's okay," he stands up, holding him to his chest as gently as he can, rocking his body and keeping his phone to his ear with his shoulder. "Ed, I don't know how to do this!"

_"Alright, fuck. H, I'm on my way. Just- just breath, stay calm, get a fucking grip, I'll get the formula,"_ Ed responds. _"Text me your hotel and room number when you can. I'll be there soon."_

Then the line goes dead and Harry's left with Holden bawling in his arms. Harry paces the room, anything to lessen the awful cries coming from Holden. He's freaking out knowing that he's got a lawyer due to visit soon and he hasn't even gotten Holden settled.

He dares to put Holden back in the car seat in order to fumble through the bags for one of the pacifiers he bought hoping that will quiet Holden for a bit, but he cries even louder once he's set down.

"Fuck!"

Harry grips his hair and rubs his hands over his face, counting to ten in his head and ripping open the packet of dummies and picking one out, popping it into Holden's mouth. His cries immediately quieten, but only for a few seconds before he's spitting the dummy out and crying again.

The green eyed man is ready to give up but knows he can't. He picks Holden up again, careful to hold his head. They're both clammy, Holden from his whole body shaking with cries and Harry from moving hastily. Harry starts to cry again when he realises there are going to be days like this, days where Holden's crying for a feed and the person who's meant to feed him won't be there.

Harry feels cruel, he hates himself for the fact that he's invited a lawyer into the mess of his life to do the one thing that will make Louis hate him forever. But when he starts to mumble soothing words into Holden's ears and a prayer for this moment to be all over, he realises his baby boy probably can't hear him properly and Harry knocks out the guilt swimming in his heart. Louis doesn't deserve Holden. Holden doesn't need him, not after what Louis has done.

Louis was so concerned about ruining Holden's life if the world ever found out the truth, yet he's already done exactly that all because he was too selfish to stop drinking when Holden was inside him. The thought boils Harry's blood and it's an awful idea to be raging with his child in his arms, so he starts to inhale deeply, exhaling and calming himself down. The stress isn't good for him, not with his own heart condition. Holden needs him and Harry can't be there if he's having another heart attack due to stress.

He sits down, Holden small in his arms, and silently cries as Holden cries himself to sleep, waiting for Ed to come.

➸

"It's okay," Ed immediately wraps his arms around Harry as the hotel room door opens to his red, puffy, tear stained face. "It's okay, H. C'mon, let me in."

He closes the door behind him, dropping the bag with the formula in to the floor and holding Harry right over to the couch. The curly headed lad curls up beside him, stuffing his face in his chest and wrapping his arms around his middle. Ed runs his fingers through Harry's hair, untangling the few knots that have been acquired due to the green eyed lad tugging at his strands.

"Where is he?"

Harry sniffles, wiping his snotty nose with the back of his hand. "He's over there in the car seat. He cried himself to sleep..." Harry admits feeling absolutely horrible inside.

"It's not your fault, Harr-"

"I should be prepared! I've just made the decision that I want full custody of him! I should be prepared!"

Ed stays quiet, itching to meet his mate's baby but aware of how fragile Harry is right now. He grips the curly headed lad's face, turning it to look at him.

"Listen to me, H," he waits until Harry is looking him in the eyes. "I don't know what the hell has gone on but I know you and I know you wouldn't do something drastic without a good reason, even if you are a right shitbag."

Harry starts to tear up again, looking down, lips quivering. "H-He calls me that... I-I feel awful."

"Who, Louis?" Ed questions, head tilted. "Why are you crying over him?"

There's an awkward moment of silence between them and as Ed slowly processes Harry's situation and makes the connection in his head, his jaw drops.

"Fucking hell, is Louis the mother?!"

Harry nods his head, green eyes anywhere but Ed's blue ones.

"What?" Ed stares at him in shock. "I thought you two hated each other?"

"Yeah..." Harry laughs sadly. "I know right now I hate him but... I don't know, it just kinda happened. I just kinda fell for him and I know it sounds stupid like it won't last but I've never felt this way about someone..." he grips his hair again, conflicted. "Ed, I'm so torn! It's not simple with him... I- I love him and I hate him and it's never just one or the other. I'm so fucked up inside, I don't need this!"

Ed rubs his back, letting Harry press his face against his chest again, tears soaking through his shirt. "I, er... I think you maybe just need to take a step back. It's not about you and Louis, it's about your son. You need to hurry up and get him home and if you're planning to go to court, just be sure with yourself that you won't go running back to Louis."

Harry's face scrunches up in frustration. He doesn't trust himself to not go running back to Louis. It's bad enough he slipped an _I love you_ out before he left the hospital. Harry knows one look in those eyes and he'll come running back, only to argue with him all over again, leave and then come back. There was one thing that came out of Louis' mouth when their flight home was cancelled that wasn't bullshit. They're a never ending cycle.

"They said Holden has F.A.S." Harry admits, finally looking Ed back in the eyes.

Ed knows what he means, not new to the word, and immediately looks at the two month old baby.

"There are several reasons why I have to take Holden from Louis," Harry breathes out, heart aching in his chest. "But only one reason I can find not to."

"And what's that one reason?" Ed questions quietly, soaking in everything.

"That I want to have a life with him..." Harry laughs at his own words, sounding like a fool. "With someone who's too selfish for their own good. The past nine months have been a scandal..."

"I can barely process it, to be quite honest..." Ed stares out of the window. "So the whole world believes Louis has no idea who the father of his child is? What are you gonna do about that?"

"What am I gonna do?" Harry questions, staring out of the window too. "Not much. Holden already looks like me. Besides, the fans already suspect he's mine."

Ed looks back over at Holden, then looks down at Harry on his chest. "May I see him?"

Harry nods, brushing his curls out of his face and walking over to Holden. He crouches down beside the car seat, softly fixing his baby's little hat, a tiny, wispy curl peaking through.

"Blimming hell, talk about a mirror," Ed smiles widely, thumbing at Holden's tiny fist. "Yeah, he's definitely yours. Louis couldn't hide that even if he tried hard enough."

Harry sits down, crossing his legs. "I'm praying you were smart enough to buy a bottle or two."

"That and a second tin of formula too, to last you until you get back home."

"Thank you," Harry rests his head on Ed's shoulder. "Would I be a nag if I asked you if you could make a bottle for him now? I don't want to leave him."

"Nah, that's fine, mate," Ed gets up, walking over to the door where he dropped the shopping bag. "How many days is Holden?"

"He's two months," Harry responds, never ripping his eyes off his sleeping baby boy.

"Wait, what? He's so small," Ed takes the formula out of the bag, about to wander off into the kitchen but wholly surprised at what he's hearing.

"We were in a car crash," Harry answers, zoning out at the memories that flood his head. "It was really bad. Did you not hear?"

"Jesus, no, Harry," Ed's jaw drops in shock. "I've been in Norway up in the mountains for the past few months. There's no wifi or signal, definitely not with all that snow."

Harry nods in understanding. "Holden had to be an emergency caesarean. Louis' got a nasty scar. Holds was two months too early."

Ed just stands and stares, processing everything. When he just about wraps his head around it, he disappears off into the kitchen, preparing a bottle and bringing it to his mate and his son. He hands Harry the bottle, watching the curly headed lad watch his son.

"I have a lawyer meant to come today," Harry confesses, watching Holden twitch in his sleep.

"Haz," Ed sighs. "I think you should cancel it. Take some time to get your head right and then think about it. Then talk to Louis when you're ready and not shout like my gut is telling me you've done."

Harry looks at Ed. He trusts Ed's advice but he doesn't really want to take it. He just wants Holden in his full custody and Louis out of the picture as much as he can be having the same job as him.

"I know you don't want to listen to me, I see it in your eyes, but it's a massive thing to take a child from one of it's parents. Think about it in the long run too. You wouldn't want Holden to hate you for doing that. Talk to Louis and see if you can work something out. If you don't and you're ready to start a war, fair enough. But baby steps, okay? That's all Holden is going to be taking for now so you should too."

Harry sighs in defeat, resting against Ed. "Why does it have to be so complicated?"

"It doesn't," Ed responds whilst admiring Holden's every feature. He's a beautiful baby. "It _isn't_. It's actually very simple."

Harry furrows his eyebrows, chest rising and falling as he breathes calmly despite his raging thoughts. "How so?"

"Well, no matter what has happened, I know you. You don't actually hate Louis, you never have and you never will, you're just blinded by all the bad stuff. Think of it this way: you're on one side of a glass wall and Louis' on the other. All the bad things that have happened are all the stains on the glass making it harder to see him. All you need is a bucket of water and a sponge."

"Stop with the metaphorical crap, I now speak baby."

Ed lightly swats him, the pair of them laughing. "I mean, you need to get over all that has happened no matter how hard it is to do - wash it all away. And of course it's gonna take arm work, and of course you're gonna get tired, but you'll be thankful you take the harder way out. A, you'll see Louis for who he is not all that he's done, B, it means Holden can actually have both his parents."

"I do see Louis for who he is," Harry defends himself. "And it makes me feel horrible to say it but he's selfish."

"No, Haz, see, this is where you're making it complicated. Louis' not selfish, it's what he's _done_ which is, which has only happened because of the problems he's had. Okay, let me visualise it for your struggling brain."

"Heyyy."

"It's like giving someone layers, building a house, whatever you want. Exhibit A: we have a person, they are kind - that's layer one. We give them problems, that's layer two. They do shitty, selfish things, that's layer three, but at the end of the day, layer one is still there underneath all those layers."

"I don't get it."

Ed deadpans the curly headed lad.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding, Ed," Harry chuckles only to be locked in a headlock. "I get what you're saying."

"So going back to the beginning, don't see your lawyer today, or any time soon. Negotiate with Louis, allow yourself one more try and this time, remember layer one, okay? The Louis without problems, the Louis underneath all those issues, the Louis you first met."

"So the Louis who willingly cheated on his boyfriend?"

"No, you idiot. The Louis who willingly cheated on his boyfriend to make you happy for one night."

➸

Days pass. Harry's been cooped up in the hotel room like a hermit crab in its shell. He still takes minutes too long to change Holden's soiled nappies, still doesn't unfold the wipers properly, never actually masters buttoning up Holden's onesies correctly, all the buttons in the wrong holes. He hasn't really slept either, just has gone through the hours thinking and thinking, night coming and passing and before he knows it, it's morning again.

In four days, he's slept the total of four hours. He doesn't blame it on the fact he can't stop thinking about Louis. He blames it on the paranoia he feels that he'll look down at Holden in his lap and he won't be there. London's getting to him. He needs to get out.

It's just turned nine in the morning and the only sounds around is Holden's breathing and the blow of the wind coming in from the window. Harry hears the opening of the hotel room door loud and clear. He never looks, he knows exactly who it is.

Louis steps through the door, face unreadable. He presses his back against it, staring at Holden asleep in Harry's arms.

"Did they tell you?" The green eyed man asks, never ripping his eyes away from the window.

Louis gulps, approaching him and setting his pair of hotel keys down on the coffee table. He takes off his jacket and comes slowly to sit before Harry and Holden on the floor. Harry decides not to tell him he cancelled his appointment with his lawyer a few days ago. Louis' too fickle, he could end up doing something that will make Harry ring that lawyer right back up.

The blue eyed boy avoids looking Harry in the eyes the way the green eyed man is avoiding doing the same back to him. The silence between them is loud. It's like Louis can hear Harry's thoughts raging but just can't make out what they're saying. Louis twiddles with his fingers, itching and aching to hold Holden. When the feeling gets unbearable, he unwillingly looks up, eyes coming to meet Harry's face. Harry's eyes are so unbelievably green with the natural light in the room, so clear. Louis can see the conflict in them.

"Did they tell you what you did to Holden?" Harry asks again, nudging his thumb gently in Holden's little hand for some comfort, careful not to wake him up.

The nod Louis gives is barely visible, but Harry catches it in his peripheral vision, then finally looks Louis dead in the eyes.

"You make me want to punch the wall."

"Do it then," Louis responds, treading on thin ice.

Harry lets out a laugh. "No. You're not worth breaking my bones again."

Louis doesn't respond, letting Harry's comment break his heart. He looks down ashamed.

"On days like this, I question why I still look you in the eyes after everything," Harry continues, breathing calmly. "Or why I still love you. You wanna know the answer that I get?"

Louis looks back up at him, gulping, wordless.

"'Cause it's not really you. The selfishness is not really you. _None_ of this is really you, as someone reminded me. And I forget that, 'cause I'm blinded by all the bad stuff, you know?"

Harry waits for a response from Louis, any kind of response. He gets a small nod of the head - it's more than enough.

"I said you needed to change," Harry continues, the look in his eyes softer. "And then I left. That was wrong. I should have stayed and told you that I need to change too and I'm supposed to do it with you... for Holden."

"What?" Louis sits on his legs, eyes so incredibly hopeful that Harry hopes he has good intentions because he'll feel like a monster again if he shatters that kind of hope.

"You heard me," Harry looks away and to Holden, their baby stirring awake almost as if he can sense that Louis is there, that kind of bond already. "I have to change with you. Do I want to?" Harry laughs. "No, you'll probably just tell me you love me and do something selfish again, but I have to do this for Holden. Yeah, it means I probably will punch the wall even though I said I wouldn't. It means we'll argue a ton, it means some nights I'll have Holden, some nights you will. You're not worth all the headache, but Holden is," Harry finishes, but not quite, letting the next words slip out of his mouth half intentionally. "But I want you to be too... so I hope one day I can look at you and see the old Louis staring right back at me so I can tell you I love you and not feel bad about it."

Louis takes his bittersweet words in bit by bit, feeling like he could burst out into tears but never actually doing so. He bites his lips, slowly reaching out for Holden. Harry lets him hold him, passing him over with the uttermost care. His skin itches giving him to Louis, a massive part of his heart and brain still with the idea that Holden's going to be only his. He doesn't reach back though, giving Louis his own moment with Holden just as the child starts to whine, his infamous cries coming through. Holden definitely got the annoyingness from Harry.

"He's hungry," Harry leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. He watches the two of them on the floor, watches how Louis' already fumbling with his top, pulling it up. Harry shakes his head. "Get up off the damn floor. You and the bloody floor."

Louis doesn't feel offended, he can hear the smile in Harry's voice, even if the smile is probably temporary because they both know whatever moment this is, it won't last long before someone is on fire. The blue eyed boy picks himself up, Holden in his arms, and sits beside Harry on the couch, a considerable amount of distance put between them. Louis may be treading on thin ice with Harry right now but he doesn't want to break it. He's pushing up at his chest wrap, soaked pad dropping on top of Holden, when Harry wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him closer and flinging the soaked cotton pad across the room.

Harry waits until Louis' got Holden at his nipple before he wraps his other arm around him, shoving his head into the crook of Louis' neck, the tiredness coming over him with a hard slap to the face. His brain only starts to shut down because subconsciously he knows Holden will be just fine with Louis for a few hours. Harry incredibly hates how his head fits perfectly in Louis' neck.

"How's your stomach doing?"

Louis inhales deeply, trying to slow down his rapidly beating heart. He's being gifted a second chance right now. Even though Harry is making it seem like he doesn't want to give it, deep down Louis knows he does, because that's just Harry. Kind, even if someone's not.

The blue eyed parent doesn't stop watching Holden, the sight offering him massive comfort just knowing that he's with his baby boy again.

"It's pretty much healed up. Just a nasty scar and stretch marks."

Louis waits for another conversation booster type of sentence to come out of Harry, perhaps a, _"do you wanna watch a movie?"_ just to add some background noise that drowns out their loud thoughts and the one in particular that just a few days ago, Harry told Louis that he'd be taking Holden from him. However, when Louis looks at the curly headed lad out of the corner of his eye, he's completely knocked out, lips already parted with snores yet to come.

The smaller boy sympathises with Harry, figures he hasn't had a good night's sleep on his own with Holden since. Louis lets him rest, feeding Holden a little more and burping him. He goes to move when Holden's throwing up over his shoulder again and is going to need a nappy change, but Harry's arms stay firmly around him. It's kind of comical that Louis has to replace himself with a cushion, but it's either that or poop seeping out of Holden's nappy.

Hours pass by of silence, Harry snoring away on the couch. Louis runs little errands when Holden's back asleep that make him feel normal again after being stuck in a hospital for two months. He can't believe it's just turned March. Louis stirs himself up a tea that he's in desperate need for, orders in some pizza for a mid afternoon bite and because Lord knows he's starving, and takes the rest of Holden's clothes out of the bags they're still in, folding them all and piling them up on the spare couch.

It's when Louis' got the biggest box of pizza open on the coffee table, a two litre bottle of coke already a third gone and is watching a movie when Harry wakes up. He wakes up slowly, only blinking his eyes open, unmoving, so Louis doesn't realise he's awake until the pizza in his hand is getting swallowed up and not by him. Louis drops his jaw, surprised that Harry has the audacity to _steal his god damn pizza_ and whacks him on the leg. Louis reaches out for a new slice, a glare on his face.

"I'm still angry at you so don't steal my food," Louis nudges Harry's prying hands off him that try to reach for his new slice of pizza.

"'M so hungry," Harry responds groggily, the sleep in his voice thick. He's too lazy to stretch over and grab his own piece so he opens his mouth instead, waiting for Louis to feed him.

Louis knows he isn't really going to win with this so shoves half the pizza in Harry's mouth, uncaring of the pepperoni that falls onto Harry's top and stains it. Harry glares back but doesn't say anything, just wraps an arm around Louis despite the fact that they haven't really healed from anything at all.

It's too, too soon.

There's nothing but the sounds of the tv between them for the rest of the movie. It's only when the credits finish rolling and the room is silent that one of them speak, and it's Louis.

"Harry, that hurt."

Harry leans away to look Louis in the face and blinks, confused.

"Don't tell me you're going to leave me again," Louis looks down at his lap, unable to look Harry in the eyes. "'Cause it hurts. You can't just... you can't just make me fall in love with you and then tell me you're leaving me. It _really fucking hurts_..." his voice dies down into a whisper.

There's not much Harry can say, no promise he can make. Even if there was, he wouldn't want to promise Louis anything, not right now. Everything's too unsteady. Everything that's written for them right now can change with a matter of sentences, _words_. Sentences with words that can end up coming out unfiltered. They're like a ticking time bomb. 

"I can't promise that," Harry speaks back quietly, looking down at his hands and twiddling with his fingers. "I can't promise you anything..."

Louis doesn't respond. Harry knows he's choked up and any word further and he'll start to cry.

Harry sighs, reaching his arms out. "C'mere."

The blue eyed boy doesn't hold himself back, going into Harry's arms, tears spilling out the moment his face hits his chest. The green eyed lad tangles his fingers in Louis' hair, rubbing at his scalp as he comes to rest his chin on the top of his head.

"I'm not going to lie to you and say everything is okay, 'cause it's not. I'm not going to lie to you at all because if we're both gonna change, we're gonna have to be honest with each other," Harry speaks, bringing his hand over hand to rub circles on Louis' back. "Maybe it's these cities why we're not who we used to be?" Harry chuckles sadly. "Maybe we just need to get away? The mountains, maybe? No signal, no media, no bullshit."

Harry never gets a reply. He doesn't expect one with the way Louis' silently crying into his chest. There's nothing much Louis can say himself anyway.

"We just need to figure a lot of shit out," Harry continues aimlessly. "And we need to tell everyone the truth. No detailed explanation, just that Holden is mine, that we love each other and that we need to get better."

Harry falls silent for a minute, watching the time tick past four. He's sick of these walls already.

"Pack your things... We're going home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, do I miss long chapters... I can't wait to proof read this whole fic because the mistakes... *internally cringing*
> 
> <3 .x


	18. Now Stay Woke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWIST TWIST TWIST PREPARE YO SELFS FOR A MOTHERFUCKING TWIST :) like always, but this a different twist y'all
> 
> I'm so excited my birthday is in less than two weeks
> 
> enjoy enjoy enjoy 
> 
> all the love from dad .x

They leave that night.

They board the plane in silence, both deep in thought and both knackered. The only time they speak during the flight is when they decide who's to take Holden for a nappy change. It always ends up being Harry as he's sat next to the aisle and he needs the practice, but other than that, they say nothing more to each other.

There's a feeling of relief that washes over them when the plane lands in LA. London's been nothing but unfortunate for them but then again, LA still carries their problems too. Leaving the airport is a scary situation for the both of them. The amount of paparazzi that block their way when they've got Holden with them is simply frightening. When Louis gets knocked back, Harry's quick to wrap a protective arm around him and get them out of there before the both of them create a scene.

Paul is there to pick them up and the two parents respect him that much more for not questioning what the hell has gone on since last year. He just mumbles out his relief that they are physically okay and when they arrive at Harry's house, helps to take their suitcases in, waving a goodbye and then leaving.

Harry's house is exactly how he left it, with all his memories of Louis. The only thing that is different is that there's dust everywhere. The green eyed man feels the sudden urge to spring clean for Holden, but before any of that, Louis and him have an agreement.

It's daunting for the both of them, clearly more so for Louis, because the first thing he does before telling the world the truth is brew up a cup of tea and hang about in the kitchen, finding anything still in date to snack on and soothe his anxiety. He only ends up feeling worse, and even more so when Harry walks in with the kind of look in his eyes that says _it's time_.

Louis immediately looks away, down at his fingers wrapped around his cup and clears his throat in response to the awkward silence that comes between him and Harry. The curly headed lad leans on the door frame quietly, listening out for any cries from Holden. None come and they have the terrifying moment to themselves.

"Please stop looking at me," Louis mumbles, refusing to look at Harry and biting his tongue to stop himself from unnecessarily swearing out of anxiety.

Harry steps into the kitchen, grabbing his own cup and deciding to make a green tea opposed to Louis' regular one. The blue eyed boy moves away when Harry comes near him, looking out of the window and sipping on his tea. He listens to the sound of the cup being filled up with water and smells the aroma of coffee, then there's a hand on his shoulder that he itches to bat away but doesn't want to be in any conflict with Harry right now. He's too sensitive, still pretty cut up after everything that has gone on.

"Look at me."

Louis shakes his head, turning his face to the left when he sees Harry's to his right. Then the green eyed man's hand is coming down to his waist, pulling him into a hug and Louis can feel himself crumbling all over again. Harry's touch makes him feel weaker than he already does inside, but Louis still puts down his tea in order to bring his hands between their chests and lay his head under Harry's chin.

"Give me an hour," Louis mutters out against his collarbone.

"I would," Harry replies, lightly swaying them. "But I know that's your way of saying you're not going to do it period."

"Harry, I'm not ready for the shit I'm going to get."

"You should have thought about that the moment you decided you were gonna lie," Harry throws back harshly but he never removes his arms from around Louis or his chin off his head.

Louis squirms in his hold, pushing at Harry's chest until the taller lad has no choice but to unlink his arms from around him, letting himself get pushed back.

"If you're gonna talk to me right now, can I have the version of conversation that's not bitter otherwise fuck you."

Harry sighs, deciding not to say anything more provoking towards Louis. He grabs his coffee and takes the packet of cookies Louis took out from the cabinet and starts to leave the kitchen.

"I'll set up the livestream," he mutters just before he steps through the door. "Five minutes."

It's to Harry's luck and to Louis' misfortune that Holden is asleep and quiet. If he was awake and screaming, Louis would have an excuse to postpone the thing that will ultimately ruin his image. Harry sets his coffee down on the coffee table and opens up his laptop, plugging its charger in. Whilst it loads up he fiddles with his phone, going on twitter and aimlessly scrolling through his feed. There's already those airport pap pics up and continuing the ongoing conspiracy, because Harry was carrying Holden, not Louis.

Harry finds himself sighing again as he looks over to Holden. _It'll all be over soon._

It's as he's setting up the livestream when he feels a dip in the couch beside him, then he feels Louis' legs come up as he curls up to his side. The blue eyed boy rests his head on Harry's shoulder and twiddles with his thumbs. He clearly wants to say something but doesn't know what to say. 

"Cat got your tongue?" Harry lightly jokes.

Louis only ignores him, grabbing Harry's arm and wrapping it around his neck, face getting squished up against the curly headed lad's chest. Harry doesn't question Louis' change of mood, one minute not wanting to be touched and the next wanting to be. Louis eventually tilts his head up and Harry looks down at him. The smaller boy's hand creeps up to his neck and then to his jaw.

They stare at each other for a moment. Harry's not blind to the fact Louis wants to kiss him, but turns his head away just before Louis' lips come in contact with his. Louis ends up kissing his cheek and he immediately frowns, bringing his other hand up to Harry's jaw and trying to kiss him again, but Harry only gives him the same response and Louis ends up catching the corner of his lips. Those big blue eyes look into Harry's green ones, evidently hurt. Harry feels guilty.

"Baby steps."

Louis searches his eyes, trying to find any hint that Harry _does_ want to kiss him back. He doesn't find it, either it's not there or Harry's good at hiding it. Louis slumps in defeat, dropping his head in shame, but then there's a hand at his cheek directing his face back up and then Harry's lips are catching his. Louis turns putty, melting in Harry's arms as much as he hates to admit it in his head. The kiss quickly eases Louis' anxiety, makes him forget all his worries in the moment. He wishes it lasts longer, because then Harry's pulling away and all the nerves are coming back.

"Baby steps," Harry repeats, searching his eyes. "But I know how you're feeling right now and what's the harm in giving you an _it's okay_ kiss?"

Louis hits him on his arm. "It's not okay. I thought you said we were being honest with each other?"

"We are," Harry gives a small smile. "But I know you were dying for a lie before the truth consumes our public lives."

"God, you make it sound like our careers are going to hell."

" _Your_ career, and it is."

Louis immediately frowns, looking down and gulping. "You could at least lie and say it isn't."

Harry chuckles. "It was a lie saying it is. We will be fine, _you_ will be fine, just..." Harry ruffles his hair awkwardly instead of acting on his urge to kiss the worry from Louis' face. "Don't lie anymore. C'mere. Give me a hug."

Louis raises an eyebrow at the awkward friendly gestures Harry is making - they are _not_ friends - but nevertheless brings himself to hug Harry which is just the green eyed man's way of distracting Louis long enough to start the livestream without his permission.

"Get ready."

"What?" Louis pulls back.

"We're on."

➸

Harry gives Louis his privacy, lets him shower in peace with his own final thoughts before they head to sleep for the night. Harry can't stop his own thoughts from racing as he thumbs at Holden's tiny fist, gently coaxing him awake. In order for them to be able to go to sleep, Holden needs to have a feed first, a rock and a kiss goodnight. Harry's laying on his side and gently scratching his fingers on Holden's clothed stomach when the mattress dips behind him. Harry turns his head to the side to see Louis out of the corner of his eye.

He's all cozied up in one of Harry's floral patterned sweaters that's a bit too big for him and he's shivering, hair still damp and the breeze from the slightly open window in the kitchen spreading throughout the house and leaving it chilly. Harry makes a mental note to shut the window before he falls asleep. Louis gets under the covers behind him, drawing the comforter up to his chin and balling himself up, shutting his eyes. He's pretty much hanging off the edge of the bed as Harry's right in the middle and taking up the space with Holden, but Louis doesn't say anything about it, too tired.

Harry gets up, moving Holden into the middle of the bed and taking his own side. Louis immediately cuddles up into their baby boy, letting out a breath of air.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Louis."

"Mm?" Louis responds in a mumble, brain already falling asleep.

"Holden."

"Oh, shit," Louis springs up, eyes still closed, patting around for Holden even though he's to his right and he knows that.

"No, it's okay," Harry states. "I'll make him a bottle. Go to sleep," he begins to get up although tired himself.

Louis nods, slumping back down and getting snug again. Harry finds it rather funny how the whole time his eyes stay shut, but he doesn't laugh because Louis could snap. Because whilst the blue eyed parent appears okay, asides from tired, for a fact he isn't. He's putting on a façade and acting as if he hasn't crumbled inside. He's in grains.

The green eyed man picks Holden up, successfully waking him up as he starts fuss about. He takes one last glance at Louis before leaving the bedroom and going to the kitchen. He makes a bottle for Holden as best as he can with one free hand and after he cleans up the spilled formula and shuts the window, he makes his way to the living room. He switches on the TV despite the shitty night time shows on just for a bit of background noise, for a little bit of a distraction from the racing thoughts in his head.

He waits a little while as Holden grows a little more fussier before feeding him, gently bringing the bottle to his lips. One look into Holden's eyes makes the wall Harry's got up start to wobble. Holden's eyes look greener with each passing day, but they've still got Louis' blue in them. Harry starts to tear up and he swallows down the lump in his throat and holds back the tears until he can't anymore.

Harry doesn't mean to cry in front of Holden, doesn't mean to appear so weak in front of his son, but he doesn't know what else to do apart from waste his tears. He's happy, so _so_ happy that it's out there, that everyone knows. He's elated! Believe him, but he knows the minute they leave the comfort of his house, there's going to be a rush. He's gotten so used to backlash throughout his career, especially when he was seventeen, cocky, a pain in the ass and a royal nightmare to everyone, but he knows nothing has prepared him for what's to come the minute they step outside.

And it's not like he can hole up here with Louis for the rest of his life either. He wouldn't complain if he could, but it's clear to see that too much time spent with Louis drives him to insanity and beyond. He stooped low saying what he did to Louis in the hospital and even though he had the right to, he shouldn't have, not without sitting down and having a civil conversation with him and working some stuff out, if not everything at least something. 

Harry's so deep in his thoughts that he doesn't realise an extremely tired Louis taking a seat on the opposite couch. The curly headed lad wipes furiously at his cheeks with the back of his hand quickly before Holden starts crying at the absence of the bottle. He avoids Louis' stare, Louis who's meant to be asleep and not catching him crying.

"Why are you crying?"

It's not as insensitive as it may sound to someone else. They've been around each other long enough to know that they both don't do tears. The fact that Louis is even asking is a nice enough gesture, however Harry doesn't know how to answer him. He shrugs, pursing his lips and watching Holden.

"Cool. I speak mute too."  
  
"How is your sass level through the roof when we're both jet lagged to hell?" Harry questions, finally looking at him. "What are you even doing awake? Go back to bed."  
  
Harry doesn't mean to sound so aggressive when he says it, but if there's one thing he doesn't want right now, it's a sassy Louis seeing him cry.

Louis yawns, stretching out onto his stomach and resting his head on his arms. He blinks, eyes glancing from Harry to Holden and back. "The minute you left the room my... my stomach dropped. Right as I was about to be knocked out cold."

Harry raises his eyebrows. "Don't get all freaky on me right now."

"Shut up," Louis groans out groggily, closing his eyes but keeping his ears awake. "I feel like something bad is coming..."

The green eyed parent scoffs. "Get yourself together, for fuck's sake."

"Hey," Louis opens his eyes and glares. "I'm not talking out of my ass. You left the room and I..." he trails of, embarrassed to admit it. "I got scared you'd leave me again."

"What does that have to do with something bad coming?"

"I don't God damn know, I just know my stomach felt really weird and I had a sudden urge to make sure you were- for fuck's sake, I don't have to explain myself, okay?"

"Well then don't tell me you think something bad is coming," Harry glares right back at him. "It's late. I don't want to be talking to you about your witchy senses. God give me a rest."

Louis childishly mimics him before softening up. "You're cute when you're irritated."

"Baby steps," Harry draws out, feeling the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and shake his head.

"Define baby steps," Louis perks up as if he wasn't just on the cusp of falling sleep. He sits up straight and immediately feels Harry's sweater he's wearing soaked. He groans, grabbing a pillow to hide the wet circles. "Baby steps as in we're allowed to kiss and fuck but we need to take it slowly? Or baby steps as in we're _not_ allowed to kiss and fuck? Even though I know we're still going to do it anyway because you're also hot when you're angry."

It's kind of a spur of the moment thing for Louis to be blurting out things he shouldn't be after what happened in London, but when he's as sleepy as he is, he doesn't have a filter. He doesn't apologise for it either, staring at Harry with a little smirk on his face and his blue eyes glimmering.

Harry deadpans him. "Baby steps as in I want to know the you underneath all the bullshit you wear and not by way of kissing and fucking. Tone it down a notch. Calling me hot won't coax me into fucking you as much as I'd like to."

"See, you don't sound like someone who told me they were going to leave me the other day," Louis teases despite how sensitive the topic is. He's purposely hurting himself for no reason by joking about it.

"You're gonna leak through onto my pillow. Put my pillow back. Now," Harry quickly changes the subject.

Louis rolls his eyes and Harry's glad Holden is in his arms or he'd have a pillow flung to his face. Instead, Louis puts the pillow back in place, getting up and removing Harry's sweater. He flings that onto Harry's head considering it's much lighter and won't knock Holden, then he disappears from the room for a few minutes to put on his chest wrap and slip in some cotton pads. He throws on one of his own tees and some sweatpants whilst he's at it. He shivers at the lack of warm clothing on his upper half and grabs the nearest blanket, grabbing his phone and switching the bedroom light off on the way out.

When the blue eyed boy comes back to the living room, Harry is in the process of burping Holden. He's got a nice little puke stain on his top and Louis refuses to tell him that he can stop that happening every time by throwing a cloth over his shoulder. Louis sits back down, curling up and turning on his phone. He doesn't dare open any social media apps and opts to open up Netflix and watch the first thing he sees to occupy himself.

"If we're gonna compliment each other on a whim, I think that you're pretty when you don't speak," Harry half insults him, a smile playing on his lips as he begins to lightly rock Holden back to sleep.

"Fair enough," Louis lays on his side, facing Harry, a provocative smile on his face too. "I think you're sexy when you mess up your lines."

"It turns me on when you call me shitbag."

"Same thing here when you call me dicklinson."

"Touché," Harry stares at Louis, eyes sparkling. "Give me one reason why I should fuck you right now."

Louis perks up even more, biting down on his lip and shuffling in his spot. "I know you're still angry at me. What's better than hate sex?"

Harry bites down on his tongue, deep in thought. Louis smirks, ready to push all his buttons.

"Was one reason not enough?" The blue eyed boy prods. "Do you want another?"

The curly headed lad nods his head immediately, internally cursing himself for not holding back and lying to himself even though he said he was done with the lies. It's too soon and everything is still so sore but he hasn't had his hands on Louis that way in months. He wants nothing more than to _have his hands on Louis that way._

Only Louis is capable of making him cry one minute and lust the next. Harry tends to find himself feeling completely different to how he did before, without a say and unable to do anything about it. That's the kind of effect Louis has on him, that's why he took Ed's advice because for a fact he would have come running straight back to Louis if he decided to go to court with him. The smaller boy's got a magical hold on him.

"I'm exhausted but I don't want to sleep anymore. Do you want a third reason?" Louis watches him intensely, both of them holding a strong eye contact, waiting to see who will make the first move.

Harry nods his head one last time, bottom lip clasped between his teeth tightly. Louis smiles innocently although the look in his eyes is anything but.

"I really miss your hands on me that way."

That's all it takes for Harry to let a moan slip past his lips. Out of love for Holden, Louis springs up off the couch, taking their sleeping baby boy back to the bedroom. He places him on the bed, putting pillows all around him to prevent him from nearing the edge. He tucks him cosy in one of his baby blankets and kisses him on the cheek before almost sprinting out of the room.

Harry's stood there waiting and Louis jumps into his arms, wrapping his legs around his waist and diving straight into a heated kiss. The green eyed man stumbles backwards on impact, back hitting the couch until he's accidentally dropping over, legs hanging over the back and Louis is crashing against him. Louis falls into a laughing fit but Harry's breath catches in his throat when he realises his face is to Louis' chest. He gets lost in a trance, only being broken out of it when Louis' toppling over, pathetically falling to the floor.

"God damn it, Harry," Louis groans from the floor as the two of them get up.

The curly headed lad gives the two of them less than a second to regain themselves before he's attacking Louis. The first thing he does is slip a large hand under Louis' tee and backs him up to the nearest wall, careless in the way he makes the smaller boy hit it. Then he sneaks his other hand up Louis' tee, the material rising, and rips off his chest wrap, never taking his eyes off Louis' as he does it.

The blue eyed boy can sense what Harry wants and what he's going to do, so he's prepared for it but at the same time he isn't. Harry's lips around his right nipple makes him jolt, a gasp escaping his mouth. He lets Harry remove his shirt fully before grabbing the green eyed man's hair tightly and bringing a leg up to wrap around his waist.

"That's- that's Holden's, you idiot," he pants out, but despite his protest keeps Harry's mouth right up against him by the back of his head.

Harry's draining him and Louis has no doubt when he pops back up he'll have wet trails down his chin. Harry switches between mouthing at his nipple to biting at it, right until Louis' pliant in his arms and a talking mess just from that.

"How do you have the stamina to moan like that whilst jet lagged?"

Louis laughs airily as Harry's wet lips latch onto his neck. "I'm Louis. Shocker, I know," he states sarcastically.

"Louis you are," Harry mumbles against his neck. "I wanna do something I haven't done to you in ages."

The blue eyed boy freezes, looking down at Harry and successfully sporting a double chin in the process. "What may that be?"

"Get on the couch," Harry bats Louis' leg off his waist. "Now. Hurry up. Before Holden damns us."

Louis rolls his eyes at Harry's decision to be extra. Well, not completely so because Holden could scream at them for a nappy change anywhere between now and the next two hours. But _damns_ is pretty exaggerated.

He listens to Harry, getting on the couch. He barely has a second to get comfortable before Harry is pulling his sweatpants down along with his underwear, drawing up his hips even more than they already are.

"Are you gonna eat me out?"

The way Louis asks the question sounds so awfully innocent it sort of maddens Harry. Louis is anything and everything _but_ innocent, so the fact he can ask such a question and appear so is really sketchy to Harry. Louis _is_ sketchy and Harry's been attracted to it since day one, some could say unfortunately. 

"How did you know?" Harry dryly jokes, not really paying any attention to Louis' question but more so on _doing_ Louis' question.

He dips in without a warning, without a hint at least, nipping at Louis' rim with his lips and licking a wet stripe between his cheeks. He snags a moan straight out of Louis, the smaller boy squirming under his hold. 

"Stay still," he grunts against Louis' hole, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of shivers throughout Louis' body.

"Fuck, how do you expect me to do that with your damn tongue- oh, _fuck!_ "

Harry gives up the childish games and starts to nudge his tongue in, mindless of the wet mess he's making. He squeezes his hands tightly around each of Louis' thighs, pulling him as close as possible until he can barely breath against his skin.

Louis' a writhing mess, the way Harry has always liked him from day one. Harry doesn't stop, licking and nipping and dipping in, each round of actions accompanied with the best kind of moans from Louis, the kind that leave Harry hard against his silk pyjama bottoms.

The blue eyed boy grabs the nearest pillow, biting onto one of its corners and muffling his sounds. Harry's overly spacious house has a knack for sound echoing off the walls, especially well into the night during the time the tide starts to go down and there isn't the sound of loud crashing waves. Louis would rather not wake up Holden, not when he's got Harry where he's got him. They are like flint and steel together and at anytime they could start a fire, an argument. Whether it burns like the last one, no one will know. Louis wants to make the most out of it.

"Fuck, Hazza, 'm gonna-"

Louis is ready to willingly start an argument up when Harry purposely removes himself. Louis can feel the smug smile on his face.

"You son of a-"

None of them really register what is happening as it happens. Maybe it's because they're jet lagged or too caught up in the moment, but as one of the floor to ceiling windows completely shatters from it's frame, they freeze in their spot, unable to move in shock.

A surge of ocean breeze floods the house, immediately raising the goose bumps already formed on their arms even more. Louis' the one who makes the first move, grabbing the blanket he left on the couch and wrapping himself up before backing up into Harry. The green eyed man is completely in shock, _panicpanicpanic_ in his eyes.

_Someone's just sent a bullet through his window_ , a bullet that as he turns to look back, has embedded itself in the living room wall.

The eeriest part about the five ghostly seconds this occurs within is that outside is as quiet as a deer frozen in headlights. There's not a sound. The two parents don't hear any footsteps, they don't hear any human sounds. There's only the light rolling of the sea down at the bottom of the sand and the overhead sound of a plane passing by.

"G-Go to Holden. Now."

Louis goes to snap his head towards Harry but instead doesn't move. None of them really move because they both have the dreaded feeling that one sudden movement and they'll have a bullet in them.

"No," Louis whispers back, shaking. "I'm- I'm not leaving you."

Harry never draws his eyes away from the broken window, doesn't dare to even shut them despite the breeze making them burn. "Go to Holden. Don't make me repeat myself a third time," he quietly responds back. "Your phone is on the coffee table. Get it, lock yourself and Holden in the bathroom and call the police."

Louis gulps, mentally counting down the minute he's given himself to prepare to sprint.

"What... w-what are you gonna do?"

Harry finally blinks, inhaling deeply. He squeezes Louis' hip. "Don't worry about me."

"You're gonna go out there, aren't you?"

The green eyed man gulps down the massive lump in his throat, daring to look at Louis. "I'm not going to hide for fifteen minutes waiting for the police to come whilst a mental twat is outside with a gun when my son and his mother are in the house."

"Are you fucking insane?!" Louis looks straight back at Harry, a crazed look on his face. "You're not fucking going out there, you hear me?!"

"After everything you've done you have no right to tell me what to do."

Louis' jaw drops and anger fills up his eyes. "Are you really going to pull that card on me right now? You're about to do the most idiotic thing and you're just going to dismiss me? Fine, go out there. I hope to God you come back."

He pushes away his fear the best he can and gets ready to go but Harry squeezes his waist again, holding him back.

"I don't want you to talk to me like that again, understood? Go. Now."

With all the time that they've wasted, it's clear that there was only one bullet meant for the house, or Lord knows if the deranged person behind it is staking them out and waiting for Louis to start sprinting. The blue eyed boy's stomach drops, heart along with it that's thudding so insanely that it starts to freak him out even more than he already is.

"I love you."

Then Louis sprints, grabbing his phone and never stopping until he's slammed the bedroom door shut, Holden waking up in tears because of it. Louis presses his back to the door, trying to steady his breathing. He's got the worst kind of feeling running all throughout his chest, the worst kind of panic making him feel physically sick. He inhales deeply, getting himself together before pacing to the bathroom. He grabs one of Harry's robes, substituting the blanket for it. He ties it up as he returns back to Holden. He picks him up, rocking him as he goes to the window to shut the curtains.

Louis can't believe he's just left Harry to go out into the open. He bites down harshly on his lips in attempt to hold back the tears that threaten to spill out of worry and fear. He mutters an _okay_ to himself, breathing out shakily as he tries to quieten Holden's cries and get him out of his fussy state.

"Shh, Holds," he gets them into the bathroom, locking the door as he dials the police, taking in a sharp breath when they pick up.

He keeps his voice quiet as he begins to talk. Someone could be lurking outside for all he knows.

"I-I'd like to report a shooting... 24, Providence Avenue, Santa Monica Beach... I have my two month old son with me. My, uh... my partner has gone outside."

He looks like a state when he catches himself in the mirror as he paces up and down the bathroom. Under his eyes are dark, his hair is a complete mess and his skin is so awfully pale. When he's told that they'll be there shortly and the line goes dead, that's when the real panic and realisation settles in.

He starts to pant, hugging Holden to his chest and speaking under his breath, things from _it's gonna be fine_ to _he'll come_ _back_ to _it was just some crazy fan trespassing with a gun_ although that last statement doesn't make him feel any bit better.

One minute turns into plenty. He's ten times more worse than he was before, guilt eating at his skin. He shouldn't have left Harry. The guilt eats at him so much to the point where he stupidly unlocks the bathroom door, stepping out with Holden. He ties on some shoes and wraps the two month old up in a blanket and on a whim, leaves the bedroom. He walks through the house quietly, clutching Holden tightly to his chest and listening out for any little sound telling him that Harry's safely back inside.

Searching the outside of the house should take a maximum of fifteen minutes, in which when Harry comes back the police should arrive. Louis glances at the clock in the hallway reading half three in the morning, checking the time to see how long Harry's been gone for but it's pointless. He never looked at the time when he left.

Louis' heart starts to beat out of his chest as he steps nearer to the living room and Holden can sense his utter fear as he starts to cry against his chest. The blue eyed parent bounces him in his arms, mentally debating on if he should turn back and hide or not, but he's been so selfish to Harry he decides not to. He refuses to leave him out there even if it's putting himself and Holden in danger, but he'd rather make the effort to show that he cares rather than sit back selfishly.

Slowly, he steps into the living room, glancing around. Everything is still the same way they left it. The TV is still on playing shitty night shows and Louis' clothes are still on the floor. Looking at the broken window sends a freaky chill up his spine and he shivers. He starts to inch towards the window, covering up Holden the best that he can with his arms. Past the house lights outside it's pitch black. Louis' able to make out Harry's footprints in the sand by the window frame. _He should be back by now._

"Harry?" Louis calls out quietly, even though it's useless because it dwindles away in the whistling wind.

He doesn't get a response. It's still frighteningly quiet outside and if Harry was coming back, he'd hear him from a few meters away. Harry's always coughing or sneezing or making some kind of sound that signifies that he's there, but Louis can't hear a thing. He calls out louder this time.

"Harry?"

Louis still doesn't get a reply and that urges him to step out of the window. The broken glass on the sand crunches under his shoes that sink into the sand and he curses under his breath when he stumbles, almost dropping with Holden. He huffs when he looks around, Harry not one bit in sight.

When he starts to hear the sirens in the distance, he steps out further, panic taking over for the umpteenth time.  _Harry should be back by now. He should be back. Why isn't he back?_

The more he steps out and the louder he calls Harry's name is the more the thought that Harry isn't coming back starts to infect his mind. Louis follows the house lights, calling and calling, even when the police arrive and Holden's crying like he's never done before. He doesn't stop calling, not even when he realises the truth.

Harry's gone, like Louis feared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to 2k17 Halloween which left me a ton of sweets :) I know I'm full of twists in this fic, this fic runs off twists, but not something like this, so this was actually pretty cool to write. I actually asked Larriegal for some advice (thank you baby) and she basically said it's Louis' turn to suffer and I couldn't agree any more so I'm really happy with this :D
> 
> GO SHOW SOME LOVE TO HER FIC BLUE ICE :)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this. I know how I want sulk to end but I needed that last good kick in there before I even begin to end this fic if you get what I mean?? Anyways, I hope everyone's had a lovely weekend .x
> 
> <3


	19. The Realisation Process

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm gonna keep it short because I'm really tired.
> 
> I feel like this chapter is far from good but it is what it is. I did something you guys may not like but oh well, I guess, this fic has a lot of crazy things so it's acceptable :)
> 
> Enjoy

The voices Louis' hearing sound muffled. He can see that Gemma and Anne are crouched down before him. The sun that has just broken through the horizon line streams into the room, hitting him in face. Cops bustle in the house, marking the broken window, removing the bullet from the wall and into a plastic bag. There are even cops outside, tracking the dips in the sand around the entire house. A few cops and detectives that were previously in the house leave to question the other private property neighbours further down. The worst part is the fact that there is camera after camera outside streaming this to all news stations despite it only being five in the morning.

Louis had just endured question after question from a detective, anything that could give a solid lead, when Gemma and Anne were let in. The second worst part was realising that they had come all the way from New York, due to be here this exact day from their overnight flight to meet the family, only to be greeted with none other than Harry missing.

The first thing the blue eyed parent realises when it all settles in is their awful luck. He doesn't know if someone has cursed their family names or if they're paying for bending the laws of nature because they fell in love with each other when they hate each other, but what he does know is that they find themselves constantly on the edge. Constantly in a horrible situation. Constantly with bad karma. Constantly fucked.

The second thing Louis realises is that each time something terrible happens to them, the feeling of dread gets worse and the situation also gets more unrealistic and stupid each time. Right now he wants nothing more than to scoff and tell everyone to _cut_ and get the script rewritten because he thinks it's a load of bullshit.

The third thing he realises is that he can't. That the cost of being with Harry is giving full power to the bad luck that follows them, that it will never stop until they're no longer together. That the only way things go back to normal is turning their faces, running away and never seeing each other again.

And it sucks that Louis can't find a bone in him to do that, because the fourth thing he realises now that he feels like he'll never see Harry again is that he wants to marry him. He wants to make things right between them, bury all their issues, say his vows that will end up being terribly rehearsed and he wants to marry Harry. It doesn't matter if he isn't even wearing a suit, he wants a proposal and _he wants to marry Harry_.

Then the fifth thing he realises, Holden in his arms, gargling up spit all over his hands whilst Gemma and Anne look zoned out and unable to believe anything, is that he was so stupid to lie about Holden. Maybe if he didn't, they wouldn't be taking baby steps. Maybe if he didn't, they'd get good karma. Maybe if he didn't, him and Harry would be comfortably in love without an nth reason to hate one another. The part of Louis that thinks an obsessive mental fan enraged with their announcement took Harry, thinks that maybe if he didn't, Harry would be here right now.

Louis' blaming himself. Gemma and Anne see it on his face.

"Honey, you need to come back to us," Anne speaks.

Louis is surprised Anne and Gemma don't hate him. He hasn't seen them throughout all the stuff that has happened in the past year but he knows they've heard about it. It gives him one more reason to love Harry even more, that his family is nothing but kind and accepting.

"We're gonna take you home, okay?" Gemma rubs his arm. "You can't stay here. What things do you need packed, lovely?"

The blue eyed boy looks around, clearly shaken. He holds Holden closer to his chest, fearing that their son will be next. He's running on nothing but paranoia, because with a house full of cops, no one's going to be taking Holden, but he can't stop the fear from taking over.

"I don't want to leave. What- what if he comes back?"

"Sweetheart," Anne gently grabs one of his hands. "If he does within the day, the cops will be alerted. It's okay. I know how you feel, I... I'm just as scared as you are, he's- he's my son, you know?" She blinks back her tears, inhaling deeply. "It's out of our hands, darling, believe me. I want nothing more than to run and find him right now, but Gem and I work for the law and from experience we know that's a dangerous idea. Listen to me," she tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear. "There is awareness about this. Thankfully you two have careers where the cameras are non stop. The entire city will be aware come the afternoon. We're not on our own. We've got the cops and the people. Think positive, okay?"

Louis can see she's struggling to keep herself together yet still provides him positive words. It's so kind, and in such a bleak moment, he needs all the kindness he can get. He leans forward and uses his spare hand that isn't gripping onto Holden to pull her into a hug.

"Thank you," he whispers into her shoulder. "Holden's stuff is in the bedroom... that's all we need," he looks down sadly at his son, wishing he could speak already. "God, I hope daddy's okay."

"I'll pack a bag," Gemma stands up, rubbing his arm. "Hang on in there, okay? You know what Harry is like. He's persistent. He won't give up so neither should you."

He nods his head, even if he feels like he doesn't have the strength to hold on.

Harry's got to come back.

➸

The sixth thing Louis realises approaching his apartment door with Holden, Gemma and Anne, is how lonely he feels without the green eyed actor. Even with Holden's grandmother and auntie refusing to leave them, especially in a moment like this, he still feels lonely, so much to the point he takes Holden to his bed and cries into his baby's top. He's a mess.

There's a dampened, depressed aura in the penthouse apartment that doesn't leave, not even when Anne gets to play with her grandson for the first time, or Gemma gets to take pictures of her nephew for the first time. The awful atmosphere is still there when lunch comes around and they order in instead of going out and getting jumped by cameras. Louis doesn't eat, he can't.

Because the seventh thing he realises is that it's always Harry. It's always Harry receiving the worse end of the bad luck running through their family that they've created, and it's always the blue eyed boy himself making it worse. He wasn't feeling the best in Marylebone, but he could have toned it down a notch. Could have prevented what happened. By no means is that him saying he would rather not have had Holden so soon, but rather that he could have spared Harry that pain.

He wonders why he put Harry through the one hundred and one excuses he gave as to why no one could know Holden was his. Wonders why he didn't just give it up then, because he could have spared Harry that pain. 

He wonders why he sat there and watched Harry cry and told him that none of it was actually real, that Harry didn't really love him and that it was all child's play. He shouldn't have, because, well, _he could have spared Harry that pain_.

Louis can't eat because he's guilty.

He can't even bear being in the same room as Anne and Gemma knowing that all he's done is _hurthurthurt_ Harry, constantly and without a second thought. He gets up and leaves them to bond with Holden, hiding himself under the cover of his bed and sobbing.

He thought that perhaps a new year would make everything better, but it hasn't. And escaping to the mountains where there's no media and no bullshit won't stop the bad luck from following them. The only correct thing he said to Harry was that they are a cycle. They'll always go round and round, start to end and back, and always, _always_  get hit in the face with bad luck.

Louis laughs in the middle of crying, because it's so stupid in his eyes. It's so pathetic, the circles that they draw. Now with Holden in the mix, it's just childish. He doesn't know what they're meant to give to make it stop.

As the hours pass by, he's nothing but depressed under the covers. He can't help but cry again when he's with Holden and feeding him, because the little curly wisps of hair on his head scream Harry's name. Louis feels so empty and wants nothing more than for Harry to come home. Right back home...

The eighth thing he realises is that he doesn't feel at home in his apartment. Harry _is_ his home, and when you're not at home when you want to be, you get homesick. Louis is homesick, and even the smell of Anne's dinner doesn't soothe the homesickness. He finds himself crying again in the bath, Holden between his legs. He didn't think he could cry so much. 

It's when it hits eleven at night and Gemma and Anne trying to sleep in the guest rooms when Louis can't take it anymore. None of them can, because as soon as he's stepping out of his bedroom door with Holden in his arms, Gemma and Anne are already stood in the hallway, talking quietly. They see him and immediately open their arms up.

Louis doesn't refuse it, falling lax in their hold and trying to imagine it's Harry hugging him. Then he hears the first piece of news all day.

"They've got a lead," Anne mumbles into his shoulder, voice quiet but she's clearly filled with happiness. "They're sure it's a crazy fan. Their kidnapping is sloppy - they're definitely not experienced. They'll find him, honey."

But Louis goes to sleep that night still feeling terrible, because the guilt and the regret and all the negative feelings he's experiencing is eating him alive.

He wakes up the next morning a lot more calmer though. He throws on a warm sweater and gently takes a sleeping Holden to the kitchen with him, resting him in his car seat and putting a blanket over him. Gemma and Anne have left a note stating that they've gone grocery shopping for him, in which he sends a telepathic _thank you_ to them in the meantime until they come back and he can thank them with a hug.

When the front door is knocking shortly after, he gives Holden a kiss on his head before going to open it, expecting it to be Anne and Gemma. It's not.

"What are you doing here?"

"You look a right mess. Don't make me stand outside. I want to talk."

Louis blinks at Nick, blocking the door. "You're not welcome here."

The taller man lets go of the hostility in his voice, sighing and looking Louis in the eyes.

"I'm not here to fight with you, Louis. I've made my peace. What happened happened. May I come in?" He asks again.

The blue eyed boy looks down, contemplating. He sighs himself, stepping back and letting Nick come in. 

"Anne and Gemma will be back soon so don't try anything," he follows after.

"May I see Holden?"

"No."

"Louis," Nick stops and turns to face him. "What's it you have against me? If I can look past the shit you pulled surely you can do the same in return."

"Yeah, no," Louis refuses, folding his arms and tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. "What do you want?"

"As I said," Nick rolls his eyes. "To talk."

"About what? I don't see anything to talk about."

"I'm not going to get angry over this," Nick mutters under his breath to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Goodbye Nick," Louis walks back to the door, opening it and waiting for the man to leave, but he stands there, not moving an inch. "For fuck's sake Nick, go! If you don't have anything important to say then get out! I'm not in the mood nor do I have the heart! Stop being a deaf dick and listen to me!"

"I'm not  _trying_ to be a dick!" Nick waves his arms exasperatedly. "I'm here to give you _emotional support!_ Louis, we were _co-stars_ for goodness sake! I've spent my everyday for _five years_ with you, Harry's been my friend for _longer!_ I know wherever he is right now, he wants me to be here with you giving you support, despite our differences! Can't you accept that I'm here doing something nice willingly and that I'm not here to fight with you?! I don't  _want_ to fight with you! Look, I'm doing exactly it right now..."

Louis takes a step back, all the words he had ready to say gone out the window. He blinks, jaw slightly dropped as he searches Nick's eyes for any bit of falseness. He isn't lying one bit, and Louis can be the judge of that. The blue eyed boy slouches his shoulders, looking down at his feet in shame like a child scolded by their parents. Nick doesn't want to fight but Louis' doing everything he can to aggravate him.

Louis sighs, closing the door slowly and looking back at Nick. "Black tea? There's no milk..."

"I wouldn't mind," Nick lowers his voice, calming himself down.

They walk to the kitchen in silence, both trying to push to the back of their heads their little argument. They've got more important matters to think about, like the fact that Harry is missing. Louis overdid it a bit anyway. He has no reason to get angry at Nick. Everything is all in the past.

"You've changed," Louis finally speaks.

"I've grown up," Nick responds, picking a cup out of the cabinet and throwing a teabag in it. "Everyone does. You have a little bit too, you know, growing the balls to tell the world the truth, but at the same time you still haven't shaken off your knack for pissing me off."

"Shut up," Louis elbows his side, stealing the cup from him.

He ignores the deadpan Nick gives him, boiling up the kettle. It's an awkward couple of minutes they stand without talking, their conversation flickering out like a light. Louis looks anywhere but his old co-star, wishing for Holden to cry and save him from the awkwardness. More than anything he wishes Harry was here, because then Nick wouldn't be.

"You look awfully lonely."

Louis glares at Nick, pouring the hot water into his tea and grabbing the cup before it can brew then leaves the kitchen just in time to catch Gemma and Anne coming through the front door. They greet Nick happily, but raise their eyebrows at Louis knowing that the two no longer get along. Louis shrugs his shoulders, waiting until they disappear off to the kitchen to take a seat on his couch in the living room. Nick follows him suit with his own cup, sitting a bit further down on the same couch, a lopsided smirk on his face. The blue eyed boy sighs in defeat.

"I am."

"What?"

"Lonely," he purses his lips, unwillingly growing emotional in front of the person he screwed over who then screwed _him_ over. He can't help but tear up. "I really do love him."

"Come here."

Louis looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. Nick's arms are wide open.

"What?"

" _Come here._ " 

Louis screws up his face but the only reason why he doesn't find himself flipping his finger at the taller man and instead walking on his knees on the couch over to Nick and straight into his arms is because he could do with a hug, and it doesn't matter who from. Any kind of hug that reminds him of Harry's hugs is a terrible idea though, because Nick's is so similar and Louis' eyes start to well up with tears even more.

"Who'd have thought I'd give a damn to comfort you?" Nick mumbles out, resting his chin on top of Louis' head. He holds the smaller boy close, face against his chest. "I'm sure he'll come back. I mean, he's gotta, innit? He's my best friend."

"You're only here 'cause you have to be, Harry being my, um... my boyfriend and all," Louis mutters into his chest.

"I guess," Nick breathes in and out calmly, Louis' head rising up and down on his chest. "But do I have to be holding you right now? Definitely not. I told you, I don't want to fight. That's not me straight up saying, _hey, let's be friends_ , because honestly I'd rather not, but one thing that has never changed is I don't like seeing you cry."

"One thing that's never changed?" Louis moves away slightly to look at him.

"Yeah, I saw it all... When we all got our roles and you realised that Harry had forgotten you. He was a dick back then, and I saw when you would cry sometimes. You wouldn't necessarily try to hide yourself properly, always picking the corner of a set."

"Oh... You twat!" Louis swats him on his chest.  "You could have at least checked on me all those times, maybe bought me some ice cream."

"Don't be a girl," Nick takes the second hit Louis gives him lightly, not at all irritated but instead rather amused.

"You are offending all females by saying that. It's totally acceptable for a guy to want to binge on cookie dough ice cream."

"Well maybe I should have brought you some along with a few cheesy rom-com films.

"Nick!" Louis scoffs. "That's even more offensive!"

"Cheesy rom-com films from the nineties?"

"Definitely not," Louis snorts, "but thank you for the thought. It's almost six years late but thank you," he gives a playful punch to Nick's shoulder.

It's an awkward gesture, confirmed by the way Nick raises an eyebrow and lets out a laugh.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Sorry, you're just amusing, just like I remember when I finally met you during the casting period. I don't think I ever told you, by the way, but the reason why you met Harry that night at the ball is because of me."

"Oh really?" Louis sits on his legs beside Nick, resting an elbow on Nick's thigh and placing his hand under his chin, facing his ex co-star. "How did that go down?"

"Well, I thought the lad wanted a lass for the night, turns out he didn't. Either way, I kind of gave him a kick to the ass to find someone for the night."

"Well, uh, thank you," Louis responds. "We had a great night."

"I know," Nick gives him a wink.

"Truly, thank you," Louis looks down at his lap, twiddling with his fingers. "If I never met Harry I never would have dumped my boyfriend at the time. He was a real dick."

"But you got another dick in return, right?" Nick jokes, his laugh dying down when he sees the unamused look on Louis' face. "Sorry, I try to bite my tongue but I haven't yet mastered the art."

"No shit," Louis glares, but there's an evident smile on his face that is dying to take over. "Get out of my apartment now. Holden's gonna be calling for me any minute."

"You're just mean," Nick lightly pushes at Louis' shoulder, not intending for him to drop off the couch but the blue eyed boy ends up losing his balance and doing exactly that.

Nick expects Louis to burst out with a string of curses, but instead he's bellowing out a laugh, and when he leans over to look at Louis, the smaller boy is genuinely clutching at his stomach and is in a fit of laughter.

"I mean, it wasn't that funny..."

Louis quietens, takes one look at Nick and starts laughing again.

"You should have seen your face," Louis chuckles, accepting Nick's hand and pulling himself up. He wipes the tears from his eyes, plopping down next to Nick. "Thanks, I needed that. I've missed laughing with you."

"Yeah," Nick sighs, memories flooding his mind, "but then you did one on me. It cost those fun times, didn't it?"

"Yeah..." Louis agrees, facing the switched off TV and letting the silence grow between them.

"Well, I'm glad I made you laugh. Looks like my job here is done," Nick starts to get up, turning around to face Louis who soon follows.

The blue eyed boy stares up at him, about to say something but the words never come out.

"You don't actually want me to leave, do you?"

Louis shakes his head, looking down in embarrassment. "No... It's been nice acting like how we used to."

"Things change," Nick responds, giving a sad smile. "Anyway, I predict a certain Holden will be calling out for you within the next five minutes. I'm gonna get going," he opens his arms for one last hug.

Louis relaxes into his hold, small against him. He sighs contently, closing his eyes for a mere second before pulling back and looking Nick in the eyes.

"Thank you..."

"No no, this is where we go back to acting like you and I don't exist."

Nick thumbs at his waist, beginning to pull away but Louis pulls him back.

"I'm sorry," Louis quietly apologises. "For the bullshit, especially since you kinda fell for me and all..."

"'S not the first heartbreak, don't worry about it," Nick shrugs his shoulders, trying to pull away once more but to no avail. "You gonna let me go, or?"

"Sorry," Louis apologises again, dropping his arms. "Thanks again, for the visit, I mean."

"No worries," Nick starts to leave, but Louis' gripping onto his wrist and pulling him back. "What is-"

Nick doesn't know what Louis' motive is to press his lips against his, but it feels all so wrong and he pushes him away the second he realises what is happening. Louis stumbles back, rejected and ashamed of what he's just done.

"S-Sorry, I just thought-"

"That maybe I still had feelings for you? Why do you care?"

"I don't, I just... I-"

"Did a really stupid thing," Nick shakes his head. "You have a son. You're meant to be a parent and that doesn't mean kissing another guy who's not the father of your kid for no valid reason. You're meant to be in love with Harry."

Louis gulps, eyes on his feet in shame. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to know if-"

"If I could replace him? Just in case he doesn't come back, right?" Nick scoffs, offended. "You can't replace someone like Harry, and I wouldn't want to be your back up plan all over again. You may be willing to stoop low to that level but I'm not. Have you really given up on Harry already? Wow... I'll see you around, Louis," he says before he leaves without another word.

The ninth thing Louis realises, getting hurt looks from Gemma and Anne stood at the living room entrance, is that he'll never do the right thing.

And the tenth is that he's an asshole.

➸

_He steps out through the broken window, gets a shard of glass in his heel in the process. It's chilly, but nothing is more colder than the fact that someone had the heart to attempt to kill him, because the bullet that went past his head missed him by inches. It was definitely aimed for him, but he doesn't tell Louis that._

_It's still ghostly silent outside and he can't hear a thing. The breeze hitting his face and pushing his hair back doesn't make his sight any clearer. He still can't see anyone nearby. He spends countless amounts of minutes walking around the entire house and dearly regrets buying such a large one. Nothing comes into view._

_There isn't anyone near the garage or lurking in the group of trees nearby, nor is there anyone down at the beach. Maybe he isn't looking properly though, because a hand grabs violently at his mouth, dragging him back. He isn't drugged as expected, no, he's negotiated with, and he's forced to do the one thing he promised himself he would never ever do - to Holden, that is._

_He walks away, but then again, does he have a choice? They'd kill him if he went back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed it, Larriegal and I finally posted the first chapter of our collab. The fic is called As Sweet As You Are and has a/b/o dynamics and includes royalty and mpreg. Give it a read if you'd like :) 
> 
> Much love .x


	20. xD

Hi! It's me :) LMAO I'm back. ACTUALLY back.

So I put up a long ass message saying what happened to me and then I took it down, because I'm all over the place.

But I miss being here, miss knowing what I want to do and enjoying writing.

I have been here writing Larry since 2014, and on Wattpad since 2013. All of my readers and fans are here, and the people that keep me going. 

I won't lie, I CAN'T start a whole new writing path, because all my people are here. And I'm FINE with that.

I realised I can still write Larry, and if I get onto Radish Fiction, I can just change the names due to the fanfiction grey area (I will explain thoroughly if I ACTUALLY get onto Radish).

And if I want to write a book with my own characters, well, changing Harry and Louis' names technically make it my own characters, but if I want to write a STRAIGHT book, I can if I want to - for myself. And if there's ever a day I publish it with like, Lulu .com for example, and if y'all want to grab it, then you can. 

I'm happy to just remain writing here as I attend college for music and get through the next few years of my life.

If I don't get onto Radish, lmao, IDC, I will keep writing here (even if I do - in which Radish will probably be a good chunk of chapters ahead in which I WILL EXPLAIN if the day ACTUALLY comes) and I'm happy with that.

**IMPORTANT NOTE:**

However, I will not be writing on this account. I came across another AO3 account I created a couple years ago, in which it's empty and fresh and a new start for new, much better works.

 **IF YOU SEE A BOOK IN THE NEARBY FUTURE CREATED BY THE ACCOUNT:** Louvable **\- IT IS ME**

I've kept the same Wattpad account, but changed the username.

 **NEW WATTPAD USERNAME:** LouvableLou

I may make a new private instagram to let you guys know about updates, give sneak peaks, etc. which I will let you know in a chapter of ASAYA or a new book on my Louvable account, But for now, 

KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED FOR A NEW BOOK BY THE ACCOUNT LOUVABLE

**IM BACK BITCHES**

And I am still on this account finishing ASAYA with Larriegal (if you read that book, sorry about the whole month with no update, I've been in a really messy place but I'm hoping to get the next chapter up soon)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING AROUND  
  
I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

xoxoxo

_~NoShitSherlock_

 

_P.S. SULK won't be finished, unfortunately. But that's okay, writers don't finish EVERY book they write in life. I hope you enjoyed it though!!_


End file.
